


Capitoline Wolf

by JarvisUandDUMEtoo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anger Management, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete, Cows, Debt, Digital Art, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fanart, Fights, Home Improvement, Humor, Long, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Pack, Superhusbands (Marvel), Weddings, Werewolf Steve Rogers, Werewolf Tony Stark, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JarvisUandDUMEtoo/pseuds/JarvisUandDUMEtoo
Summary: After the tragic loss of most of his pack, Steve Rogers is now in charge and must figure out a way to save what remains of his ranch and family from crippling debt. He makes an agreement with the Stark pack, and finds himself with a new fiancé, complete with a hefty dowry. After spending less than thirty seconds with this Tony guy, Steve is already regretting everything. As problems continue to arise, can they band together long enough to save the pack?





	1. Chapter 1

Steve clenched and unclenched his fists. He had been waiting to meet with Stane for over an hour, and his patience was wearing thin. If it had been any other person, and if his pack had been where it had been a year ago, he would have already walked out. Hell, if his pack was how it was for most his life, he wouldn't be here, period. He had never been any good at this kind of stuff, and that was fine, it was a nice joke, Bucky or his ma would laugh at his stumbling efforts at diplomacy, then they’d go sweet talk him out of whatever hole he'd dug himself into. And right now, he was in a hell of a hole. So he sat in an uncomfortable post modernist chair, and stewed in his hatred for the over the top opulence of the waiting room. Peppy elevator music struggled to cover the loud ticks of the artsy clock hanging above his head. He tapped his foot in time with the ticks until the receptionist glared at him. Then he started tapping his fingers too, because fuck her, and this clock, and this stupid room, and his collared shirt that was too tight, and Stane, for making him wait an entire goddam hour in this little room when there was so much work he needed to get done back home….

A thin woman in a suit stepped into the room, and beckoned him forward. He stood up, straightened his shirt, took a deep breath, and strode into the fancy office with a fake smile plastered on his face. The walls inside were covered in modern art, so basically thousand dollar paint splatters. The man he was here to meet lounged behind a solid mahogany desk, smoke from his expensive cigar gently curling towards the ceiling. Steve could still hear the damn clock, all the way down the hall. He looked around, noting that there were no other chairs. Some sort of intimidation tactic he guessed, as he tried to decide what to do with his arms. They trembled at his sides so he crossed them, then quickly uncrossed them because Jan told him that made him look hostile This morning she had tried to jam in a lifetime's worth of negotiation skills into his head on the half hour ride over, while Clint laughed like a hyena from the truck bed and suggested that they just duke it out like real wolves. She was probably sitting in the pickup right now, plotting with Clint for what they would do once he fucked this up. Maybe if he did better than they’d expected, they'd lie about it. Pretend that they’d thought them up on the fly, that they hadn't all gone into this knowing this would be their last chance, and everything was riding on Steve ‘fight me’ Rogers being diplomatic. They should have just sent Jan, she would have been a hundred times better at this. But she wasn't an elder, and wasn't the alpha wolf of the pack. So here he was, in one of Bucky’s old collared shirts, because he didn't own one of his own, trying to play proud and powerful pack alpha, with a total of two other pack members, a ranch mortgaged to hell and back, and twenty bucks cash between the three of them. He wondered if clenching his fists was considered more or less hostile than crossing his arms. He wondered if it would matter once he opened his fat mouth. He wondered if this meeting was ever going to start, or if he had spent an hour waiting in that stupid room with the stupid clock, just so he could spend another hour having a stare down with Stane. If he won the staring contest, could they skip the talking and he could just leave? Or was he supposed to lose as a sign of respect or something? Jan barely got through the ‘no punching during polite negotiations’ level of rules, he had no clue if there were secret eye contact codes. Blink twice if you're willing to go lower on the price, keep staring until your eyeballs dry out and pop out of your skull if you want more. Fuck this. He looked away and cleared his throat. “Thank you for agreeing to see me today, Sir.” 

Stane blinked at him, and took a pull from his cigar. He let out the smoke in a sigh, and Steve twitched his nose in barley concealed disgust. His sensitive wolf nose hated the smell of smoke. A gold ashtray on the corner of the desk showed that despite the early hour, this wasn't Stane’s first smoke of the day, and most likely wouldn’t be his last. 

“Of course my boy, my pack has always had a long history with yours. Wouldn't want to disappoint old friends, even if said old friends are no longer around. My condolences. To lose so many so quickly….” He stared off into space, as if pondering the abstract cruelty of the universe. Steve gritted his teeth in something that could have been a smile. 

“Thank you. That's why I'm here, actually. My pack needs assistance.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. In its entire history, the Rogers pack had never asked for help. They had always kept out of the petty dramas of the other packs, preferring to raise cattle in isolation. For almost two centuries they remained healthy and prosperous, the lack of fighting and surplus of food making them the largest pack in the west. Then things started to go down hill. Steve didn't know when or why it had happened, but he had always lived a life of hand me down clothes, and bills paid off with loans, which were in turn paid off with other loans while the bank breathed heavily over their shoulders. The pack dwindled down from over a hundred to ninety, then fifty, then to just twenty people. As of today, they were down to three. There was no one else left, the entire legacy of his pack now relied on him to preserve it. So that's why he was here, begging at the feet of Obadiah Stane, the acting alpha of the Stark pack. The new greatest pack in the west, built on blood money earned from selling advanced weapons to their lucrative military contracts. They forgot all of the old ways, the ways of the wolf. They lived almost entirely in the human world, and didn't function as a pack so much as a corporation, with levels of workers and bosses with Stane at the top. Please check your inner wolf at the door, and do remember to pick it back up again on the way out, he thought to himself mockingly. Steve wouldn't have even been able to guess Stane was a wolf at all, behind the Italian suit and under the layers of expensive cologne and more expensive cigar smoke. It rackled him deeply that this was the leader of what his society now considered the most successful pack. Had Stane ever run wild through the woods, chasing down rabbits with his pack mates? Had he ever climbed a mountain so he could howl a little closer to the moon? Had he ever burrowed deep into the snow, and trusted his thick coat to keep him warm as he waited for an elk to pass by? Looking at his fat manicured fingers covered in rings, Steve doubted it. Every fiber of his being was telling him to just challenge the man, to rip out his throat and take his money and lands for himself. But that wasn't how it worked anymore. The packs had treaties. The packs had rules. (Not that that ever did his pack any good.) He couldn't take on the entire system with two other people, and whether he liked it or not, the old ways were dead. So now he was here, to grovel on his belly like a pup for a treat. 

“Please. We need your help.” Stane leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his desk. 

“Hmmmmmm. I'd love to help, but really, I'm not sure I can offer what you need. I'm not even sure if you know what you need.” 

Steve took a breath. Ok, that was terrible insulting, yes, and he wanted to ram his fist into that basterd’s doughly mouth, alright, gotcha, but it wasn't technically a ‘no’. He could work with this. He was going to work with this. Janny would be so proud. Clint would be disappointed he hadn’t already punched him. 

“We need a loan. An alliance. And, ideally, more wolves.” Stane's eyebrows drew together as he laid it all out on the table. The older man casually flicked a bit of ash off his cigar, and Steve watched as it hit the tray. 

“Money… money might be doable. Wolves though… wolves do what they want. I can't force them to join your pack, when they'd rather be here. Your pack does have a reputation as being… well, old fashioned. Out of touch with the times. Plus...how shall I say this delicately? Frugal? Yes, let’s go with that. Wolves just aren't interested.” he said with a shrug. 

Steve bristled. Frugal. They both knew he meant ‘dirt poor’. And preserving the traditions of the pack didn't make them out dated, it meant they were real wolves, unlike this man who was prancing around in his monkey suit and smoking smelly cigars that would stick in his nose for days. At this point, after so many losses, traditions were all his pack had left. 

And it was no longer enough, he reminded himself. Explain, don't fight. 

“We don't have enough people to take care of the cattle. They don't have to join our pack, they just have to help in the summers, and we'll give you a cut of the meat.” 

Stane shook his head. “We all have jobs, real jobs, we can't drop everything for summer work. And those real jobs pay enough that we can buy the meat from the store. 

There's nothing in it for us, and as alpha, it's my job to do what's best for my pack.” He leaned back in his chair, looking smug. He took another puff of his cigar. 

“I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you, my boy.” 

Steve was pissed. Fuck being polite. He’d been civil for a whole ten minutes and he wasn't getting any of the things he was here to negotiate for, so he might as well get in a few cheap shots. 

“The meat from the store is as bloodless as you. And Alpha? You're not the alpha at all. You're just acting until a real Stark takes over.” Steve snarled, letting out enough wolf that his teeth turned to fangs. 

Stane's dark eyes flashed, though his voice remained level. “I've been running this pack for years, building us up to heights that Howard never could have dreamed of in his heyday. And Tony….” Stane paused. “Tony….” Stane paused again. “Are you married?” Steve blinked at the abrupt change in subject. 

“What? No. Neither are you, so that doesn't make me any less of a pack leader-” 

“No, no, no,” Stane interrupted with a wave of his hand and a sharp smile. “You know what, I think it might be possible for us to make a deal after all. You wanted money, another wolf, and a political alliance right?” 

“You just told me that wasn't possible, I don't understand what games you're trying to play with me….” 

“I just had a brilliant idea. How do you feel about arranged marriages?” 

### 

The sun beat down as Steve walked back to the pick up in a state of shock. Clint was sitting in the back of the truck, picking at the paint. Jan was in the driver's seat, hand on the ignition like she thought he was going to come barreling outside with a pack of wolves behind him, and the difference between a clean get away and being ripped to shreds rested entirely on how quickly she could get their rusty old pickup to turn over. He didn’t know why she bothered, the thing hadn’t started up without ten minutes and a whole lot of cursing in years. He got in the shotgun side, the truck rocking back and forth with a gentle squeak. Bucky used to make fun of how small he was, not tall enough to get into the truck without a boost. Then one summer he shot up, and without blinking, Bucky switched right over to making jokes about him rocking the whole truck and banging his head in the roof. He stared at his hands, as he felt the others eyes on him. Jan looked out the window, then back at him as Clint awkwardly shifted in the back. “So… how'd it go?” 

How _did_ it go? 

“Well, I got everything we wanted.” 

Jan let out a confused “Seriously???” As Clint whooped. “Holy shit! No way! _Everything?_ Ol Stane must have been in some mood! Did you punch him? I bet you punched him. I’m so proud.” 

Jan's eyes narrowed. “What did you negotiate with?” 

Steve shrugged. “The ranch is safe, if that's what you're asking. And…. just nothing, I guess.” 

“Steve, you don't negotiate with nothing, Stane has to be getting something out of this deal. He didn't get to be head of two hundred of the richest wolves in America by helping out every wolf with a sob story.” Jan scolded. 

“I don't think he's gaining anything, so much as getting rid of a problem.” He looked out the window as a short man with wild brown hair marched up to the pickup, slammed his hand against the window, and started yelling obscenities at him. 

“And there he is now. Clint, Jan, please meet Tony of Stark pack, my fiancé.” 

The ride back to the ranch was dead silent. Jan and Tony sat in the truck, Jan driving with her usual careful regard for speed limits and the rules of the road in general. Tony was sulking. There was no other word for it, it was just a good old, straight out sulk. Steve and Clint sat in the bed, holding down the eight massive suitcases Tony had insisted on bringing. Clint kept his head down, watching the yellow dashes on the road tick by. And Steve… Steve wanted to cry, but that sure wasn't an option, so instead he shoved it all down, until all that was left was small angry part of him yelling that this wasn't fair, he didn't want this. Then he shoved that down too. It didn't matter if he was happy or not. This would help his pack, so he had to do it. He had made an agreement with Stane that Tony would stay with him from now on, to get used to things before they tied the knot. The wedding would be in a few months, which was the soonest they could have it while maintaining the level of opulence and class associated with the Stark pack. Steve’s ma had gotten married under the grapevine trellis out back in her Sunday best, but apparently that wasn't good enough for the Starks’. They needed ‘venues’ and special wedding specific dresses and three tier cakes, and those things took time. Steve just wanted to get it over and done with. His pack needed this, therefore he would do it. He had no clue what Tony's motivations were. After he had raged at him for a few minutes while he hid inside the car like a frightened pup and Clint laughed his ass off in the back, Stane had come outside and pulled Tony aside to talk. They talked for about a half hour, Tony with his arms tightly crossed. Jan was right, crossed arms did look hostile. For being maybe 5’6”, Tony radiated a whole lot of menace. Finally whatever Stane said convinced Tony, because he marched back inside, and returned an hour later with eight enormous suitcases. 

They had loaded them up in the back, and now after the long ride they were pulling up to the ranch. 

Steve felt himself relax a little. The ranch had belonged to his pack for generations, and he had grown up here. Every nook and cranny held a story, most now bittersweet as the people he had made the memories with were now gone. The bushes where he had played hide and seek with Bucky, the porch where he had sat with his Ma as she knit, the fields where the cattle grazed and he'd catch crickets with Clint and Jan. This was his home, and he would do anything to keep it safe. 

“This place is a fucking dump.” Said Tony, snapping his gum. Too bad keeping it safe seemed to include marrying possibly the worst wolf in the entire world. Certainly the most annoying. And obnoxious. And rude. And foul mouthed, and probably lazy, and most certainly spoiled, with that amount of suitcases. What the hell had he gotten himself into? 

Be polite to your future spouse, he told himself as he hopped out of the truck bed. 

“Yeah? Well now it's your fucking dump too, so if there's anything you don't like you can get off your ass and fix it yourself.” 

Well. He tried. A little. No, not really, he was pissed at life, and at Stane, and mostly at his husband to be. Husband? More like hus’bad’. Heh. He would have to remember that one. Jan poked him. 

“Steve, why don't you go check on the cows while Clint and I help Tony get settled in?” She suggested. Always trying to make peace, make everyone get along. Usually he appreciated it, though it drove him nuts sometimes. Times like, oh, maybe right now, for example. 

“Since Tony wanted to bring every shirt and knick knack he’s ever owned, he can figure it out himself. Get the cases out of the truck, then the two of you can help me out back. We need to make up for not being here all morning before it gets too dark.” 

He turned and marched inside the house to change into work clothes, as Clint and Jan exchanged a look. Clint shook his head, and Jan decided not to push it. 

“Great. We’re not even married and the honeymoon's already over.” Tony said with an exaggerated sigh. He opened the door and got out of the truck, walking around the back to start hauling suitcases out of the truck and into a messy pile on the ground, with Clint and Jan’s assistance. “So did Obie shove a stick up his ass this morning, or is he just always this delightful?” 

“This is as nice as I’m going to get if you don’t hurry up and get your shit inside.” Steve said from behind him, now dressed in stained jeans and work boots.Tony jumped. 

“Yikes! You’re pretty quiet for such a big guy, it’s unnerving. Is this part of the hazing I have to go through before I can be a part of your special club? If I prove you can’t startle me and I can carry suitcases with my soft and spoiled arms you’ll stop being such a huge dick, and we can start to try to make the best of this situation?” Tony snapped. 

Steve was unimpressed. 

“The hazing is later, and it’s going to be a whole lot worse than this.” Tony paused what he was doing and blinked at him. 

“Oh my god. You’re serious. You can’t be serious. What are you, twelve?” 

“I’m twenty one!” 

“I guess that explains why I’m so much more mature.” 

“You’re like, two months older, if even. That’s nothing.” 

“Apparently it’s a lot, since I’m not going to ask you to go skinny dipping to prove your loyalty.” 

“That’s not what it is!” For this first time in his life, Steve was glad that his face got all red when he was upset, because it covered the blush that would have given him away. Running out at night for a dunk in the duck pond actually was most of their hazing ritual. It was fun, alright? And it was a tradition, everyone in the pack had done it. Tony would laugh at him when he found out. Or he might never find out, at the rate things were going. Was it possible to have the alpha’s mate not be a part of the pack so much as…. vaguely tangential? Possibly living in a different building and only meeting for a half hour for coffee every other Wednesday? He’d never heard of anything like that before, it would go against tradition. And his Ma would probably be pretty disappointed, she would've wanted him to put the effort in. Course, she probably would have hated Tony, so who knows. She'd have wanted him to marry for love. But he gave up what she would have wanted, and his only shot at marital bliss, because that was what the pack needed. And the pack always came first. He’d deal with trying to build some sort of relationship with Tony later, after the cattle were taken care of, and the alfalfa baled and the sink fixed and the truck repainted and the window redone and the stove top replaced and the laundry washed. 

So, never. 

The work never ended on the ranch, and they were horribly understaffed. After meeting him, he doubted Tony was going to be anything more than another mouth to feed, and he was going to use up almost the entire dowry to pay off the loan on the house, and what was left would go towards paying of the bills on the truck. He might have just dug himself into a deeper hole to get the bank off his back in the short run. Too late to worry about it now, there was alfalfa to be tossed and cattle to be rounded up and-well, you get the picture. 

Steve worked the rest of the day with Clint and Jan, trying to finish up even long after the sun went down. When they finally trudged inside, the house was cold and dark. They washed up, and Jan made a simple dinner of canned pasta. As they sat at the table to eat, Tony came into the room. Steve didn't bother to turn around as he shoved food into his mouth. “Too good to help out and make dinner, huh?” 

“You never asked me to. Besides, I can't cook.” 

“Were not at your mansion anymore Stark, no one is going to wait on you hand and foot. Here, You don't work, you don't eat.” 

“I've been here less than a day, give me a break. I'm sorry I unpacked instead of reading your mind about dinner, then teaching myself to cook and making you a steak. Alright? You happy now?” 

“From now on you can probably just assume that if you're in the room, I'm not.” Steve knew he was being petty, and couldn't bring himself to care. 

Tony did not appreciate it. 

“Okay, yeah, I'm done. This isn't going to work. I'm not going to be your docile little husband who mucks out cow houses everyday and makes you dinner every night then lets you verbally abuse me over imaginary infractions.” 

“Cows don't have houses.” Steve muttered, being purposely belligerent. Tony smacked his hand on the table. 

“Not my fucking point! I hate cows, and I hate farms, and I hate you! I don't want this, you clearly don't want this, and we can’t make it through a single solitary sentence without fighting, so let's just end this whole farce of a marriage before it begins!” 

Steve stood up, pushing the chair back with a loud screech. 

“Fine!” His fists tightly clenched, he loomed over Tony. Tony wasn't the least bit cowed, his face flushed with rage. 

“It's like a chihuahua fighting a bear,” Clint whisper to Jan, and she let out a quiet snort. Tony glared at the two of them, then turned back to Steve who was now smirking. He snarled, fangs growing. “Great! It's all settled then! Tomorrow morning you can drive me back, and we'll never have to see each other again.” He said with a sarcastic little hand clap, forcing himself back under control. 

“Thank the lord.” Steve said, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling because he knew it would annoy him. And it did. 

“Yeah, fuck you too, buddy.” Tony snarled, and stomped out of the room with a angry huff. There were a few seconds of awkward silence. 

“Well, you sure fucked that one up!” Said Clint cheerfully. “So what's our new plan?” 

Steve slumped back into his chair with a defeated sigh, and hid his head in his arms. “Fuckkkkkkkkkkk. I shouldn't have done that. There is no new plan. We're screwed.” 

Jan gently rubbed his arm. “It's alright, we'll figure something out.” 

Was it wrong of him to wish she'd quit being so goddamn understanding? That Clint would stop looking at him with such hope, like there was nothing to worry about because good old Steve would always find a way out for them? He felt like he was drowning and his packmates were thanking him for pulling them down with him. He was out of ideas and out of options. He never would have gone to Stane otherwise. 

“Like what exactly? There's no other way to get the money in time. The banks gonna repo the ranch. And even if we do get the money, we're still too short staffed to take care of this place.” 

Problems stacked on top of problems breeding more problems, story of his goddamn life. 

“You could try giving Tony a second chance.” Jan suggested gently. 

“Tony's a piece of shit.” Steve mumbled. “I hate him. Ma would have hated him.” 

She sighed. “Steve, he told off a stranger who was twice as big and twice as angry. Your ma would have loved him. Just give him a chance, alright? You've both had a rough day, you might find yourself getting along a lot better when you've both had some time to settle.” 

Steve tiredly rubbed his face. “I guess. If he still wants to stay tomorrow, he can stay. If he wants to go, I'm not stopping him. The best you'll get out of me, Jan, so just let it go.” 

“You should go let him know-” 

“I said let it go!” 

Jan flinched back, and Clint stared at him with wide eyes. Steve took several deep breaths, and gritted his teeth. “I'm sorry for yelling. I think I'm going to bed now.” He stood up and left, leaving his dinner half eaten on the table. Jan and Clint finished the rest of their meal in silence. 

“This is a train wreck.” said Clint. Jan nodded, the two very different siblings for once in complete agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve continues to have a rough time. After the events of the previous day, Tony is going back to his pack, but things delay his return.

The next morning Steve woke up to his alarm clock, worrying about the ranch, just like every other morning since the event he didn't think about. The event he thought to much about. The event that he couldn't forget or let go of because it was too important to just let go of, Clint, don't you even care-- and then his second alarm on his watch went off. 

He started setting that one after he lost a half a days work so he could lie in bed and have a self pity party. Save the grief for weekends was his motto, he'd deal with it then. Too bad cows didn't take weekends. Meant he didn't get weekends. Tony probably took weekends, and holidays too, the lazy bastard. He needed to drive him back today, and he wondered if the truck had enough gas to do it. It was probably rude to ask for gas money when dropping off the pack heir and telling his guardian that despite what they agreed yesterday, he was absolutely unsuitable. Yes sir, sorry sir, didn't work out, I'm a homebody, he likes adventure, I like the country, he likes the city, Im old fashioned and he's so modern, I'm a hard worker and he's too good to boil pasta, I'm a rancher and he's an absolute fucking nightmare. Don't suppose I could keep the dowry and you'd spot me a twenty for the gas I needed to haul him back? 

Yeah, that'd go over real well. 

"We're no worse off than yesterday," he tried to remind himself. "We'll figure something out. We have to." 

Steve got up and got got dressed. His shirt was dirty. He hadn't had time to do laundry yesterday, he was going to put it in over night and he forgot. Again. Was this the fourth time he wore this shirt? He couldn't remember. He put it on anyway. Maybe If he was lucky it would annoy Tony. He went down stairs and poured himself a bowl of cereal. 

He ate it methodically as Jan and Clint wandered downstairs. He went outside and the frost from the grass collected on his boots. He opened the doors to the barn and the cows ambled outside as the sun peeked up from behind the mountains. The barn door was warping as the waterproof paint peeled off. He would need to fix this too. He added it to his already overflowing mental checklist, and went back inside. Clint and Jan were more awake now, having a quiet conversation between themselves. Tony was no where to be seen, probably still sleeping. Steve left the kitchen to go wake him up, and realized that he didn't actually know which room he had picked. 

The ranch house had first been built to fit about fifty. Then as the pack had expanded, more rooms had been added on, until there were over seventy bedrooms. Plus bathrooms, two enormous kitchens, and several dining and living rooms. Most of it had been boarded up for as long as Steve could remember, and it was still so much extra space that he sometimes felt like a ghost wandering through the empty halls. Back when he still had time to play, hide and seek with his older brother Bucky used to take hours. Finding Tony was going to be a huge waste of time. And what if he had picked Bucky or Ma’s room? He'd fucking kill him if he touched their stuff. He ran to his Ma’s room first. He wasn't there. He went to Bucky’s next, right next door to his own and across from his Ma’s. Not there either. He let out a sigh of relief. There were so many rooms it was unlikely he would have picked one of these, but he had faith that Tony would always find some way to piss him off. Maybe this whole marriage thing could work after all, after one day he already had faith in his partner. Now he just needed love and devotion and all that other jazz, which would be coming any day now. Yeah, right. 

He walked through the halls, checking every room one by one for his wayward fiancé. At the end of the hall he stopped. He hadn't been in any of the bed rooms. The room at the end of the hall had his suitcases, but no Tony. He went back to the kitchen, figuring he had missed him. He wasn't there either. Had he gone into one of the bedrooms in the boarded up section? Why would he do that? He went back through all of the open rooms and checked again, looking in closets and under beds. He wasn't there. He went to the empty side of the house. The boards were untouched. He looked outside, and the truck was still where they parked it last night, so he had to be somewhere in the house. He went back to the kitchen. “I can't find Tony.” 

Clint and Jan looked up from their breakfasts. “So you murdered him in his sleep and you want us to play along so we still get the money? Got it.” Clint gave him an exaggerated wink. 

“No, seriously Clint, he just disappeared.” Steve said with a frown, gesturing to the empty seats at the table. Clint nodded. 

“Yes that's right officer, disappeared from right beneath our very noses, here one minute, gone the next, please don't go look out back in the woodshed, I’ve never seen that bloody axe before in my life, no sirree.” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have either of you two seen him, yes or no.” 

Jan put a hand over Clints mouth. “We haven't seen him since last night. Where have you looked?” 

“Everywhere in all the bedrooms, including under all the beds and in all the closets, and all the living rooms that aren't blocked off. And none of the boards are disturbed. And he wasn't in the barn when I went to let the cattle out.” 

“Tell you what, I've got an easy solution!” Clint ran into the hall and yelled at the top of his lungs “TONY, HEY TONY! Steve just did something super embarrassing and you need to get up here right now if you want to make fun of him for it!” 

He crossed his arms, smug, as Jan and Steve stared at him in total confusion. “Now, we wait.” 

“Clint, he’s probably dying of tetanus in one of the boarded up rooms, he's not gonna-” 

Then Tony rounded the corner, taking it so fast he slid a few steps, before he regained his balance and marched up to the group with so much dignity Steve barely believed he had slipped after watching it himself not a second earlier. 

“Alright, what'd he do???” He yelled with glee. His hair was fluffed up in wild curls, and he was in an old t-shirt, stained with soot from head to toe. Plus for the first time since they had met, he was smiling. Of course it was at his expense, but...it was maybe kind of nice. Not that he cared. Because he hated him. And he was making a mess in his house. 

Why were jerks allowed to be handsome? Steve needed to get himself back on track. 

“Why are you dragging soot all over my house?” Ok, that was good, nice and harsh, didn't let on to the weird direction his thoughts had just taken. 

“No, shush, this isn't about me, tell me what you did, Steven.” 

“I didn’t do anything.” 

“Clint, what did he do?” 

“He just spent the last half hour looking for you under the beds.” 

Tony laughed incredulously. “Under the beds! No! They’re all like four inches off the ground! How would I fit? And why in the world would I be under a bed?” 

Steve blushed, embarrassed. Curse his Irish skin. “I couldn’t find you, and I thought, well, actually it’s pretty obvious you wouldn’t fit when looking at you now, but I mean, at the time, and you're kinda small? And when ever I was looking for something and told my Ma I couldn’t find it, the first thing she’d ask was if I’d checked under the bed. So, I, uh, I did that.” 

He looked at him in awe. “Amazing. I had no clue that any human being could be this dense. You’re wasted on this farm, you should be in a lab so scientists can study you.” 

Steve sputtered. “It’s a ranch, not a farm. And I’m not dense, I’m thorough. If you weren’t under the bed, where were you?” 

“Well, last night I picked out a room, all on my lonesome. And it was freezing, so I turned on the heat. Half an hour later, my room was even colder than before. So, I went down to the basement and took a look at your radiator. Much like the rest of this godforsaken house, it has been rotting away in neglect for the past fifty years, and as a consequence is a total piece of shit. So I took it apart.” 

“You...took apart our radiator.” Steve sighed. Crazy to imagine that he had made it almost a full minute without being tired of putting up with Tony’s nonsense. Tony, like always, did not seem to care. 

“Don’t sound so grumpy, it was broken anyway. Good news is, I figured out what part you need. If you buy it yourself, you’ll save a solid grand in fees from the contractor. Then bam, good as new. Well, not new. Good as its going to get, let’s go with that. Which, if you haven't gathered, isn't very good.” 

“We can’t afford-” Steve started, before Clint stomped on his foot. The younger man then tried to act casual as Steve glared at him. 

“Hey Tony, since you took it apart and all, is there any chance that you could fix it yourself?” 

He frowned, and and pushed his hair back, getting soot in it. “Well, no, I’d need the part. That’s why this house is still an ice box.” 

Clint looked at him eagerly. “But if we got you the part?” 

He shrugged, and absent mindedly wiped his hands on his pants, spreading soot there too. 

“Sure. Easy. It’s this one.” 

He had drawn a rough diagram of it along with numbers at the top on a sheet of paper, which he pulled out of his pocket and handed to him, leaving black fingerprints all over it. Clint looked at it while Tony stared sadly at his still black hands. He wiped them on his pants again to no effect, and shrugged to himself and gave up. He looked up at Clint and narrowed his eyes. 

“Except I’m going home today, so you can just suck it up and pay a couple hundred to hire a real contractor.” 

Jan and Clint exchanged a look, communicating silently. Jan nodded at Clint, and he darted out of the room with a muttered excuse. Jan then grabbed Tony’s arm and led him to the kitchen. “Well, let’s get some food into you before we send you off.” 

Steve had no idea what was going on. Knowing Clint, probably trouble. He tried to go outside to see what Clint was doing, and was stopped by Jan’s steel like grip on his arm. 

“You could use some more food too, right Steve?” 

“No, I already ate.” 

She stomped on his foot. 

“Goddamnit,” he hissed. What was this, abuse Steve day? This was the second time his poor foot had been stepped on in the last ten minutes. She dragged him to the kitchen and forced him into a chair. 

“I’m making eggs.” 

“Um. Thanks?” said Tony. He looked at Steve and he shrugged. He had no clue what was going on either. Jan served them up two plates of eggs, and they ate in silence. Tony’s fingers left black marks on the fork Steve noted, both impressed and a little disgusted. He guessed he was wrong about Tony being afraid to get his hands dirty. Didn’t matter though, since he was leaving today. He almost felt bad about it. He could admit that he had been in a bit of a mood yesterday, and eating together like this was...nice. He actually got along with Tony when they both kept their mouths shut. Clint came back into the kitchen. From his boots, Steve could tell that he hadn’t been in the fields. So where had he been for the past half hour? 

“Well Tony, you ready to go?” 

He swallowed the last bites of his eggs and got up. “Yeah, just let me haul my luggage outside." 

“Let me bring the truck around first,” offered Clint. He went back outside, and Tony went back down to the basement where the radiator was. Steve followed him down, and watched as he packed up his tools. From the looks of things, he had brought everything from a socket wrench to twenty sizes of screwdrivers with him. He dumped it all into his suitcase, which was filled to the brim with tools. He vaguely wondered how he had even managed to haul it out of the truck and down here, it must have weighed a hundred pounds at least. He also wondered how much of the many suitcases he brought were clothes, and how many were filled with the equivalent of a small garage. 

“Sorry this whole thing didn’t work out.” Steve said, leaning against the doorway. Tony snorted. 

“No, you’re not.” 

Steve grinned at his honesty and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not. That just seemed like the thing to say.” 

Tony zipped up his bag and stood. “Well in that case, I guess I’ll say that I’ll miss you and you cows, Mr. Rogers.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I’ll be sure to tell them. I do hope they won’t be too devastated with you gone.” 

Tony laughed at that, rough and hearty and honest. Steve really wished he wouldn’t do that. It made him look sweet. It made him feel bad about freaking out about signing his future away and dumping all that rage on him, when he got screwed out of just as much. 

“Anyone would be devastated by the loss of my handsome face. I suppose they’ll just have to soldier on without me.” 

There, see, he was horribly cocky and self inflated and all those other spoiled brat things. No regrets at all. He grabbed one of his bags, and walked with him outside. It was time for him to go, so he could get things back to normal, and figure out some new plan for dealing with the bank. Clint and Jan were standing by the truck, arguing. 

“C’mon, break it up you two. What’s wrong?” Almost a year of this, and it still felt weird to Steve that it was now his job to play peacemaker rather than picking a side and joining in. 

Clint kicked the tire of the truck. “I dunno what happened. Just a half an hour ago I drove into town just fine to get the heater part, no problem. And now the truck won’t start at all.” 

“How...suspicious.” said Tony. “Wait, did I say suspicious? I meant unfortunate. You poor thing.” 

Clint turned and looked at him with exaggerated surprise written all over his face. “Wait! Oh no! If the truck won’t start, we won’t be able to take Tony back!” 

“Oh nooooo” chorused Jan. 

“What an unexpected tragedy.” Tony added dryly. 

Steve gritted his teeth. “Clint, could I please speak with you for a moment?” 

Without waiting for an answer he dragged Clint behind the barn and pushed him against the wall. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

Clint kept his eyes focused over Steve's shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Steve gave him a firm shake. “Cut the crap. What did you do to our truck?” 

“I pulled some parts out. It’s no big deal, I know where they go and I’ll put them back after Tony fixes the heater, and we can bring him home tomorrow, no skin off anybody’s back.” 

“You broke our only form of transportation so you could trick Tony into fixing the heater? What the hell is wrong with you, things were fine the way they were!” 

“It’s freezing now and it’s not even winter! We’re never going to have the cash to hire a repairman and you know it. I don’t want to be freezing my ass off in December when we have a solution to the problem _right here, right now._ ” 

“Cold builds character. We’ll find a way to survive without sacrificing our integrity.” 

“Well you can sleep outside with your honor, while I sit inside with a functioning heater and appreciate still having toes!” 

“This is underhand and you know it.” 

“This is necessary, and _you_ know it.” 

Steve was silent. 

“C’mon Steve, another day won’t kill anyone. Jan is in on it too. It’s for the good of the pack,” he wheedled. 

“I hate you.” 

“That’s the spirit. Just repeat after me, functioning heater, functioning heater, functioning heater.” 

They walked back to truck, and found Tony elbows deep in the inner workings, and Jan sweating up a storm. Tony was chatting away as he worked, explaining possible problems and solutions. He greeted the men as they walked back. “Hey guys. While you were away, I figured I’d take a look at the engine, see if I could fix it. And I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It looks like the compression tube is gone. Just gone. That’s pretty wild. I might have expected it to be torn or leaking, but gone? That’s a new one. Almost like someone unscrewed it then shoved it in their back pocket.” 

Clint slapped his hand to his back pocket with a gasp. Jan covered her eyes in embarrassment and Steve looked at him in disbelief. How Clint had gotten this far in life without learning even the very basics of lying was beyond him. 

“That’s really something.” stuttered out Clint, pale as a ghost. He glanced at Steve, then Jan, and decided to stick to his plan. “Must have gotten jostled lose. Tell you what, I’ll go look in the barn for replacement parts, fix the truck tonight, and we can bring you home tomorrow. And in the meantime, maybe you could finish up fixing the heater. Since you’re stuck here and all.” 

Tony put a finger on his chin like he was considering. 

“Hmmmm. No.” 

“No?” 

“No, I don’t think so. I think I’ll fix the truck, then go home.” 

“You don’t have the parts.” Clint said suspiciously, his hand still in his back pocket. 

“I’ll find a work around, and be out of your hair before lunch.” 

“I think you better just wait…” 

“Clint. Enough.” Steve said, crossing his arms. The game was up. 

“But Steve! Heater!” he whined. Steve was unimpressed. 

“I said enough, Clint. Give Tony back the parts so he can be on his way.” 

He glowered and handed over the parts. Tony immediately set to work repairing the engine, his hands moving with complete confidence. He reinstalled the compression tube, tightened a few other lose bolts, and hopped around the front and started the truck, first try. Steve was impressed despite himself. The pickup hadn’t started first try in years, not since Clint tried to run it off vegetable oil instead of gasoline. Tony really had a way with machines. 

“There, it’s done. I don’t know why you guys are making such a big deal out of this, just call a contractor.” 

“We don’t have the money.” Steve said bluntly. His face felt hot, and he hoped he wasn’t blushing. First they got caught lying, and now Tony was about to figure out just how dead broke they were. Embarrassing. 

“You don’t have…? It’s a hundred bucks, max, with the part you got. And that couldn’t have been more than twenty bucks.” 

“Sixteen ninety nine!” Chimed in Clint happily. Steve glared at him, and he shut up. 

“We don’t have the money. We have the house, the cows, and now three bucks.” 

“Don’t forget the penny. It’s three bucks and one cent.” 

Steve punched him in the arm. Clint winced. 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll shut up now.” 

Tony bit his lip. 

“Look, guys, I didn’t know it was like that. I just thought you were being mean or something, like you thought it would be funny to make me get all dirty trying to repair your shitty heater. If you actually need the help, I don’t mind. I’ve always had an affinity for fixing. I’ll put it back together today, and you can bring me home tomorrow, alright?” 

Steve was shocked. They hadn’t had a streak of luck like this for years. A two hundred dollar repair done for free? He wouldn’t turn that down, no matter who was doing the fixing. 

“Thank you Tony, I really can’t tell you how much we appreciate this.” He said with complete sincerity. Tony looked back at him wide eyed. 

“Oh. Um. Yeah. It’s not actually any trouble, and there’s a chance that Clint could’ve grabbed the wrong part, I’m shit at drawing, so I can’t guarantee anything…..” 

Clint and Jan grabbed him and hoisted him up onto their shoulders. He let out a yelp and grabbed their shoulders for balance as they marched in a circle chanting “MVP! MVP! MVP!” Tony laughed, and struggled to hang on. He looked at Steve, his smile dimming and his eyes growing worried. Like he was going to yell at him or something? He gave him a reassuring smile and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell. 

“Who’s the MVP?” 

His eyes brightened and he laughed his loud and honest laugh as Jan and Clint yelled back. 

“Tonnnnnnyyyyy!!!!!” 

“I said who’s the MVP?” 

“Tonnnnnnnnnyyyyyy!!!!” 

“Let’s hear it on three! One, two, three!” 

“Tony! Tony! Tony!” 

Tony was laughing like crazy and holding on for dear life as Jan and Clint jumped around chanting. Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him down safely. Tony was breathless. 

“You guys are so enthusiastic, it’s weird. In a good way!” He assured them. 

Steve grinned. “We try. We really do have to get to work now though, we still have stuff left over to do from yesterday. You should be able to find at least one of us in the barn if you need anything.” 

“I should have all the tools I need already. With luck I’ll be done in four, maybe five hours.” 

He nodded briskly. “Alright. Guess we’ll see you at lunch.” 

Tony went back inside, and Steve turned to go to the barn only to be blocked by his two grinning pack mates. 

“Steve, we like him. We’re keeping him.” 

He frowned, and brushed past them. 

“He’s going home tomorrow, and I’m not going to stop him.” 

“Does that mean that the two of us have permission to stop him?” Jan asked, already ready with her precious loopholes. 

“No.” 

“But Steveeeee…….” 

“No.” 

“We’ve bonded, we’ll miss him.” 

“You’ve know him for a day, you’ll get over it.” 

“C’mon Stevie, give him a chance!” 

“I told you last night, he can stay if he wants, but I’m not asking him.” 

“That was last night. You were a grouch last night.” 

“I’m a grouch this morning too. You guys stepped on my foot and it hurts.” 

“No it doesn’t, don’t be a baby. We need to keep him, and more importantly, we want to keep him.” declared Clint. 

“You like him so much, why don’t you marry him?” Steve shot back. 

“Because he likes you, stupid.” Jan smacked his head, and he frowned at her. 

“He doesn't like me, and I sure as hell don't like him. We’ve spent all of yesterday fighting, and one little cheer isn’t going to fix everything. So drop it, and get to work. We've wasted enough time already this morning.” 

The two younger wolves pouted, but went out to the field to start milking the cows. He still didn’t like Tony, and he was better than to lead someone on just because they were useful to him. He wasn’t going to pretend to like him just for free work then send him home as soon as he stopped being useful. Unless something changed, Tony was going home tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the previous two chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony in exchange for a dowry he can use to pay of the debt on his family's ranch. They don't get along, and consider breaking off the engagement.  
> In this chapter, Steve remains conflicted over Tony, and things escalate into a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: There is a fight, no one is seriously hurt.  
> I finished writing, so expect daily or every other day updates as I edit and format.  
> Thanks for reading!

After he sent the other two off to work, Steve went though the old containers in the back of the barn until he found the paint. Most of it was too dried out or separated to use, and he dumped sawdust in it and threw it in the trash. They ended up only having two usable colors, yellow and orange. He picked the closet color to what they had now. Looked like it was going to be a red and orange barn. The important part was to cover up the wood so it wouldn't warp any further. He went outside with his paint, and gave the door a rough sand. Then he applied the paint in thick, even strokes. He had always enjoyed painting. It was relaxing as long as you weren't doing too big or small of a space, and it left his mind free to wander. His mind went to Bucky and Ma, just like it always did. It was too nice of a day for that, Ma always told him to avoid cloudy thoughts on a sunny day. So instead he thought about Tony. It wasn’t hard. Since meeting him, he took up an annoyingly large amount of his mind. This morning had been nice. Breakfast had been fine, and he was fixing their furnace right now. If you weren't gonna judge a man by his ability to fix large household appliances, what else would you judge him on? They had gotten along much better today, now that they'd both had some time to calm down. Steve wasn't too proud to admit he'd been in a piss poor mood all yesterday, and taken out most of it on Tony. Not that he didn't give it all back with interest, cussing him out before he even learned his name. He wondered what Stane had told him to convince him to come out here. He didn't like the ranch, and they didn't have much else to offer. If Jan went behind his back like she was wont to do, and convinced Tony to stay, he'd ask her. Lots of things would happen if he stayed. They wouldn't have to worry about the bank taking the ranch for another couple months, maybe ever. And if he could fix the heater and truck, he could probably fix the sink and the electric fence too. Plus the stove, and maybe even the window latch. And he would be someone to talk to beside Clint and Jan. They were great, he loved them, just not for twelve hours at a time, seven days a week. Lot of upsides to him staying. It would probably be worth it even if he was a jerk. Which he totally was. Though now in the sunshine, with the painting brush dragging smoothly in his hand, that didn’t seem like as big of an obstacle as it had the previous day. You actually needed to be a bit of an asshole to fit in at the ranch, he admitted to himself. 

He finished up painting and put the lid back on the can. He pounded it shut with a hammer so that it wouldn't dry out, and brought it back to the barn where he put it on top of the other paint can. One chore down, eight hundred to go. He grabbed a roll of wire and headed out to the fields to mend part of the fence. Another task he could do on autopilot, while he thought himself in circles. He really shouldn't let him stay. Even if they did end up getting along better now, they'd hate each in other in the end. Tony didn't want to live on a ranch. After he fixed everything mechanical, there would be nothing else for him to do unless he wanted to learn to toss hay. He doubted that. He was some spoiled rich kid, he’d probably give up fixing their furnace once he broke a nail. They couldn't afford to feed him if he lounged around the house all day. He'd be resentful living with nothing to do and no one to talk to, and none of his fancy city folk entertainment. So it would be best if he left, before he realized that they were just using him for his skills and despised him as a person and he had wasted a month of his life on a ranch in bumfuck nowhere fixing twenty year old appliances for hostile strangers. He wondered if Tony had friends back home who were missing him. Did he have time to say goodbye in the hour he was gone to pack? Or had he just disappeared, leaving that sham of a wolf Stane to explain he had married him off to some country bumpkin so he could hold on to control of his pack forever. He had figured out Stane’s motives pretty quick. If they got married, Tony would be a part of the Roger pack, and could never take command of the Stark pack. Stane would get to keep all wealth and power he had amassed. Tony was a jerk, but he was better than Stane. Everyone would be happier if he went back and married a nice wolf from his own pack. Unlike Steve's pack that was small enough that everyone was loosely related, the Stark pack was made up of dozens of independent families, who had all moved to Colorado to get in on the legendary wealth and prosperity the large pack enjoyed. With a couple hundred members there had to be someone Tony got along with better than Steve, considering it was such a low bar to meet. He stood up with a sigh. 

So, painted the barn, decided he should stay, fixed the fence, decided he should go. 

That was all the introspection he could deal with for today, it was time for lunch. 

He went inside and dumped three cans of ravioli into a pot. He hated ravioli, he had no clue why there were thirty cans of it in his house. Maybe Clint had bought it. Buying thirty cans of Chef Boyardee seemed like something he would do. Steve probably needed to take over responsibility for grocery shopping. The stove was broken so he put it in the oven to warm up. Steve grabbed twenty bowls out of habit, then put them back and only set out three. Then he had to go back again to grab a fourth. By time he finally had the right number, the food was warmed through since the oven had two settings; off or volcano. He took the pasta out of the oven, gave it a stir and put it on a towel on the table. The table was so old and beat up that one more hot pan wouldn't make a difference, Steve just thought a towel looked nice and he wanted to be fancy because they had a guest. A guest who probably ate caviar twice a week and wouldn't be impressed by canned ravioli and a dirty towel. At least he couldn't see the bottom of the table, that was where he and Bucky used to carve swears with their pocket knives to make Clint laugh and Jan blush. His Ma had never figured out that her dinner table had had the word ‘fuck’ carved into it about eighteen times in varying degrees of legibility. They had also all carved their names in large blocky letters. Steve and Bucky, written right next to each other, so close that the bottom of the Y touched the top of the T. Jan, written more legibly and straight than the others. And finally Clint’s written the largest, with the letters so crooked you wouldn’t be able to read it if you didn’t know what it was supposed to say. His handwriting hadn’t improved since then, Steve thought with a snort. He walked to the door and stuck his head out. “Grubs up! Get in here!” 

Jan and Clint waved back in acknowledgment, and started back towards the house. Steve took the stairs down to the basement and stuck his head into the room where Tony was hard at work. He had parts scattered around his feet, and if there were in any order, it was only clear to him. He moved with complete confidence, totally in his element, slotting valves back into their rightful spots, and tightening the connections with a graceful turn of his wrist. The socket wrench in his hand made a steady noise like the beat of a heart, twisting up with the sturdy sound of metal on metal, before clicking down, one, two, three. The tool caught the light in a flash of silver at its zenith, reflecting back on Tony to momentarily outline his brown hair in lines of glowing silver, so that he looked like one with the machine he was fixing. 

“You enjoying the show, Cowboy?” Tony asked, not looking away from his work. 

Steve blushed. Ok, yeah, maybe he had been staring. Tony had a good nose, even for a wolf. Or maybe he should quit putting off laundry. 

“I’m not a cowboy.” 

“You’re a boy who owns cows, ergo, a cowboy. Why are you down here? Don’t trust me to get the job done?” 

Why did he always have to go on the offensive? Everything he did wasn’t an attack. 

“I came down to tell you lunch was ready, that’s all.” 

“So you’re mad I didn’t make it? I still haven't magically learned to cook since yesterday.” 

He felt his hackles raising. Here we go again, he thought. 

“That’s not what I said. If you’re gonna be prissy about it you can just forget it.” 

Seemed like bringing him from zero to a complete rage was the Tony Stark special. It was almost impressive, in a weird way. He was starting to guess that the skill was mutual, judging by the color on Tony’s cheeks and the sharp glint in his eyes. 

“I’m not being prissy, I’m just saying that you if you don’t set clear expectations, I don’t know what you want. You’re a closed book, I never have any idea what’s going on with you. One minute you’re sending me to bed without dinner like a misbehaving pup, then the next morning you’re literally cheering my name. Now you’re back to all angry and quiet. It’s a fucking roller coaster and I hate it.” 

“Thanks, I hate you too.” Steve said dryly, glad to finally get it out there. Tony waved his hand at him, like he was trying to wipe away what they had said so far. 

“I didn’t say that,” 

Steve perked up and thought to himself, "Oh? Didn’t hate him? Did that mean he liked him? Not that he cared of course…. 

Tony continued. “I said I hated how you go through more mood swings than a 13 year old girl! Help me understand! What am I doing that’s making you run so hot and cold?” 

Steve squashed his hopes back down and crossed his arms defensively. Right. This was more along the lines of what he was expecting. Petty insults, blame, and complete self-centeredness sounded about par for the course. He snorted dismissively. 

“Everything isn’t always about you. I’ve got a lot of problems, ok, and I can’t fix most of them, and you’re just adding to the pile. Now do you want some fucking ravioli or not?” 

“I don’t want your stupid ravioli!” 

“Too good for my ravioli, too good for the ranch, too good for us…” he hissed. 

Tony stood up angrily. “Would you quit doing that? I’ve never said that!” 

“You called my home a dump!” Like Steve would forget _that_ anytime soon. 

Tony threw his hands up. “It _is_ a fucking dump! Half of it is boarded up, there’s holes in the roof, your heater doesn’t work, your sinks all leak and it took me six rooms before I found one that wasn’t full of moths! I’m not being a spoiled rich brat when I want to sleep on a sheet with no holes! I had to take apart a doorknob this morning to get out of the room! You can’t live like this!” 

“We DO live like this! And I’m trying! When something breaks you just call a contractor, but we can’t! Even if we could afford it, I don’t own a fucking phone! When something breaks, I fix it, and I’m not a plumber! I don’t know cars or furnaces or anything! I was never supposed to be in charge, I never wanted to be in charge, and now I am, so I’m doing the best I fucking can!” 

“Well it’s not good enough!” 

Steve let out a roar of incoherent rage. He ripped off his shirt and dropped down and shifted to his wolf form, his skin erupting with white fur as his jaw lengthened. He wiggled out of his pants, the whole process from man to wolf taking less than three seconds. He lunged forward, lashing out. Tony jumped out of the way, and Steve paced, waiting to see what he would do. 

A sham of a wolf like Stane would walk away, ignoring the traditional wolf challenge. Tony hesitated, stiff as a board as he watched Steve pace back and forth in front of him. As a wolf Steve could smell his fear, hanging thick and bitter in the air. Tony backed up until he was trapped in the corner of the basement, hands held up defensively as he trembled. Maybe he was surprised by the size of Steve's wolf? Or maybe the city folk didn't shift as much, with no where to run around. Didn't matter. Steve growled at him, an inarticulate “Fight me!” 

Tony let out a yelp and started the shift to wolf, the shift seeming to be a half involuntary reaction considering he hadn’t even got his clothes off. Tony fell to all fours and his limbs bent alarmingly and broke with sharp cracking sounds. Tony let out an otherworldly shriek as his jaw lengthened and teeth sharpened into deadly points. Steve winced back in alarm. That wasn’t how shifts were supposed to work. Steve had been shifting from man to wolf since he was four, easy as he breathed. Tony’s shift took over ten minutes and he screamed the entire time, a horrible wailing sound that deepened into a howl as he completed the change. If Steve had had a voice he would have asked what was wrong. Instead he nosed at Tony carefully. Now fully shifted, Tony was a sleek brown wolf, and he held his head down and panted roughly. When Steve approached Tony snapped at him and pushed himself to his feet, shaking off his clothes and standing surprisingly steady. Steve brushed off his concerns for his opponent and let out a gleeful howl. It was time to spar. 

They circled again, eyeing each other up. Much like their human forms, Steve was significantly bigger, standing three and a half feet tall at the shoulder. Tony was slighter as well, his long legs built for speed. He was a handsome wolf, Steve had to admit, with his dark brown fur fading to a cream on his stomach. His ears and paws were tipped with black and coupled with his slender build, it all created an almost fox like appearance. It suited him well. 

But enough of that, it had been months since Steve had gotten to spar, and if anyone deserved a good bite, it was Tony. Steve made the first move, stepping forward and trying to get a mouthful of Tony’s tail. Tony spun out of the way and returned to circling. Steve lunged forward with a snap of his jaws and his opponent ducked back again. 

“Coward,” Steve growled to himself as they circled. He ran forward for the third time, maximizing his momentum so Tony wouldn’t be able to dodge back. That was exactly what Tony had planned, and all Steve’s momentum was turned against him as he slipped in a puddle of oil leaking from the machines in the basement. The second he went down Tony was on him, sharp teeth parting fur and breaking through the skin of his shoulder. Steve brought up his hind legs and scratched at Tony, who held on with a determination rarely seen outside of bull dogs. Steve bit his muzzle and Tony let go with a yelp. Without a seconds pause Tony was on him again, biting and scratching. Steve gave it all back as good as he got, using his size and familiarity with the landscape of the basement to his advantage, until they broke apart and faced each other, panting and bleeding. Tony tilted his head, a silent offer of 'truce'. Steve nodded and shifted back to human, the bites and scratches pulling painfully. Thanks to his werewolf side, they would heal by the end of the week and were already scabbing over. Tony was clever, to get in as many hits as he did on a bigger wolf. And tough too. He had a scratch below his eye that was dripping blood down his face, and he bore it with dignity. A worthy opponent, Steve concluded. 

Tony made the shift back to human, the process long and painful, though he didn’t let the strain show on his face. 

“I’m sorry I called your home a dump.” Tony offered, panting on the floor. 

Steve shrugged as he finished pulling his clothes back on. He walked over and offered Tony a hand, pulling him up. “It is a bit of a dump. And it’s unfair of me to ask you to fix it.” 

“....I wouldn’t be opposed. No one said I had to go back tomorrow. If anything, it’d be easier if I stayed. Less paperwork, you know?” Tony hedged, looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye, body tense as he picked up a wrench and fiddled with it. 

“I certainly wouldn’t want any more paperwork. I guess you better stay.” Steve said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin. Tony smiled back and held out his hand. 

“Friends?” 

“Friends.” Steve agreed, shaking his hand firmly. 

Steve still couldn’t see himself marrying Tony. But friends? That didn’t sound so bad. That didn’t sound bad at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony in return for a dowry to pay off the debt on his ranch. They don't get along at first, but after a fight they work out all their tensions and tentatively decide to be friends. Tony agrees to stay, at least until the ranch is fixed up.  
> In this chapter, Steve tries to flirt and Jan and Clint try to help. They're not very good at it.

Steve was collecting the eggs from he barn and humming quietly. The chickens clucked peacefully to themselves outside in the sunlight, pecking the ground for bugs and seeds. Now that he knew Tony was going to stay, he felt lighter than he had in ages. So many of the problems weighing him down had been lifted. Plus now that the air between the two of them was cleared, and they could start over again with a clean slate, maybe start building their relationship to something beyond yelling. Things were looking up for the first time in months, and he felt downright hopeful for the first time since he lost his pack. He finished checking the last of the nests, and walked back inside to put the eggs away. 

Clint came charging up the stairs from the basement. “Steve! What the hell did you do to Tony?!?” he bellowed in rage. He skidded to stop inside the kitchen, and gasped at Steve’s bloody shirt and the scratches on his arms. 

”Forget that, what the hell did Tony do to you?!? I need to get Jan, we are in so much trouble.” Clint ran outside without waiting for an answer to any of his questions. Steve finished putting the eggs away, and went upstairs and changed his shirt. It would be easier to argue he was fine if he wasn’t as bloody. He looked at his shoulder. It was healing well. Maybe five days, and it would be like it never happened. A week at most. He put on a new shirt. Dirty. He really needed to do laundry. When he got back downstairs, his two pack mates were waiting for him in the kitchen. Clint was worriedly pacing, and Jan was biting her lip. Steve tried to take control of the situation before it escalated any further. He spread his hands flat on the table. 

“Look, everything is fine, Tony and I had a little fight, no big deal. You don’t need to worry.” he tried to reassure them. Jan handed him a washcloth filled with ice, and he held it up to a scratch on his arm to appease her. He was totally fine. He just needed to convince his over anxious packmates of that, who were clucking around him just like the hens outside. 

“Guys, it’s no big deal,” he tried to explain. 

“Steve, this is a very big deal. You just had a fight with Tony. You’re all scratched up, and so is he. We can’t bring him home today, his pack would kill us.” 

“It doesn’t matter, because he’s staying. We worked it all out, and we’re good.” 

“He’s staying?” 

“We sparred, we talked, and he’s staying.” Steve confirmed. 

Jan and Clint looked at each other. Jan went to the door and started pulling on her boots. “We’re going outside to check the cows.” Clint quickly joined her. 

“You’re not checking on the cows, you’re going outside to plot.” Steve shouted as they stalked out. 

“Potato, potahto. It’s for your own good.” 

Steve followed them outside onto the porch and grabbed Jan’s arm. “Seriously guys, we’re going to try to get along, don’t screw this up!” he begged. Things were finally going right, he didn’t want Jan and Clint to start meddling and ruin everything. 

“Screw this up’ implies that there’s something there to get messed up.” Jan said, perceptive as ever. Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, do you like him now? Like like like?” 

“No!” Steve denied, eyes wide. 

“Yes! Oh my god, this is huge!” She gasped. Clint looked him up and down speculatively. “Well I guess we figured out why Steve’s never had a real partner before, a person’s gotta beat him in combat before he’ll look at them twice.” 

“Clint!” Steve yelled scandalized. “It’s not like that, okay? We’re barely not enemies! We’ve known each other for two days, I haven't thought about him that way.” 

“You haven't thought about whether you’re romantically interested in your smoking hot fiancé? Have you even noticed him? Do you even swing that way?” 

Steve was red and sputtering. “What? I’m attracted to Tony!” 

Jan let out a loud squeal of delight. “I need to go tell him right now!” 

“Wait! No!” Steve stammered while Clint yelled over top, “I’m coming too!” 

“Jan come back, I didn’t mean it that way! Don’t you dare say anything to him!” 

Clint held him back cackling as Jan ran inside. “Tony! Tony I have something to tellllll youuuuuuu!” she sang with glee. Steve broke free of Clint and charged inside after his cousin. He caught her before she reached the stairs, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her. He covered her mouth with his other hand just in time, as Tony came trotting up the stairs. He paused at the top, taking in Steve with his hand over Jan’s mouth, and Clint on the floor where he fell when Steve broke free. And since Clint had brought it up, it was hard not to notice how handsome Tony was. His eyes were large and expressive, framed by dark lashes. His hair was thick and shiny, the same color as the fur lining his back when he was a wolf. He knew from sitting beside him earlier that under the metal and soot he smelled like cinnamon. It reminded Steve of mornings spent making cinnamon rolls with his mom, and making cookies around Christmas. 

Oblivious to his thoughts, Tony wiped his hands on a rag. “Um. Am I interrupting something? I heard my name.” 

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing, we were just going outside.” Steve stammered out. 

“Right.” Tony said skeptically. “Well, have fun doing….whatever it is you’re doing. I should be done with the heater by dinner, so I’ll see you then. Good luck with whatever this is.” 

Tony went back downstairs and Steve dragged Jan back outside before taking his hand off her mouth and letting her wiggle free. 

“If you talk to Tony about my non existent crush, I will kill you, then bring you back to kill you again. Then I’ll hide your hairbrush.” 

Jan gasped at him. “No! You’re such a jerk!” 

“I mean it! No!” 

She pouted at him. “Why are you so embarrassed? You’re gonna get married, you’re supposed to like him!” 

“Quit saying I like him! I don’t have a crush, no way, no how. We are maybe, maybe, casual friends. We’re like friends who never call, you see them at the post office by chance, agree you have to get together some time, then never get together until you run into each other on accident three months later at the grocery store.” 

“You do to have a crush. You’re just too mutton headed to see it. Don’t worry, Clint and I will help you out. You’ll be knocking boots in no time!” 

“Jan!” he gasped, scandalized. 

“He already has a pretty big crush on you by the looks of things, he’d be stupid not to. Give him some flowers and bam! Putty in your hands! I’m a girl, I know these things.” she said with a wink. 

“You’re a puppy-” 

“I'm not a puppy!” She gasped, affronted. 

“-a puppy with delusions of grandeur.” Steve finished. “He grew up rich in the city, he’s not gonna want any dumb flowers. And he doesn’t like me like that.” he tried to explain a little desperately. 

“So if he did like you like you like him, you’d like that he like likes you?” 

“No-wait, yes? What?” 

Jan cackled. “Don’t worry, Clint and I are on the case! We’ll take care of it.” She gave him a pat on the cheek and ran off to wherever Clint had gone. 

“Just stay out of my business!” Steve yelled. He grabbed his spool of wire and tromped back to the field to work on the fence. He didn’t know why he bothered, she hadn’t listened the last hundred times. He just didn’t want the two of them to go charging in and mess everything up when he finally had things going right. Was that too much to ask? 

He should just tie the two of them to chairs, duct tape over their mouths, and finally get some peace. Course, they’d probably just Houdini their way out and have taught themselves morse code and accidentally punched a hole in the wall he’d need to fix during the process. Forget the ranch, they should just hit the road as the Roger's pack circus. Come one, come all, come see the two most annoying dumbasses in the world! Watch as they drive their older cousin and technical legal guardian into a rage with just a sentence! Watch as they demolish this entire circus tent with just a paperclip and a used piece of chewing gum! And the final act can be witnessed just once a month, so grab your torches and pitchforks and come marvel at the amazing transformation of our beloved ringleader! Half man, half beast, an abomination against nature and the ultimate killing machine, he can usually be found out back mending the fence for the millionth time so his cows don’t wander off and get stuck in the ditch again. Yes Dottie, I’m talking about you, there is nothing good in there, there has never been anything good in there, none of the other cows do this! It’s just you! Her glared at her. Dottie didn’t care. 

“One of these days I’m going to eat you.” he threatened. She nosed his hand, looking for a treat. He opened his palm to show her it was empty. She gave it a lick anyway, then returned to the grass. Steve stroked her back. He wouldn’t eat her. She was a milk cow, not the type for eating. And he always had had a small soft spot for Dottie. How could you not admire a cow with a sense of adventure? Scrap the circus, he should call Hollywood, tell them to come out here and make a movie about his intrepid cow and her three bumbling ranchers. Four now, though he didn't think Tony would take too kindly to being called bumbling. Or even a rancher. He marveled to himself that for the first time since Clint was born, the pack had gotten larger. And after he married Tony, maybe- yikes, no, not going there. They weren't getting married married, they were getting…. convenience married? Alliance married? They would not be adopting any kids and turning them to pack. Which he was totally cool with. Yup. Not the least bit disappointed. He would just turn the tables and play match maker for Jan and Clint instead, then be the coolest uncle in the entire world. 

Unless Tony wanted kids too. 

Entirely possible. 

Was it weird to daydream about this stuff? Better than what he usually thought about, which was Bucky, and Ma, and how Bucky would never get to have a family of his own, and Ma would never get to meet his kids and spoil them rotten. 

He pet Dottie some more. “No cloudy thoughts on sunny days”, he told her. She nosed the fence. It stayed solid. She looked at him with utter disappointment. More like 'udder' disappointment, he laughed to himself. Dottie walked off. No one appreciated his puns around here. He packed up the wire and pliers and took them back to the barn. He was making decent progress on his to do list today, despite all the interruptions. He picked up a pitch fork and started tossing the hay and sweeping up the barn. By the time he finished, it was dark outside. He put the pitch fork back where it belonged, and went inside the house to his room. He pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was cold. He’d ask Tony to fix the water heater next. He dried off and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Jan was putting together sandwiches while Tony took apart the stove top. Ok, water heater after the stove top. 

“Do either of you need any help?” he asked. Jan handed him the mayonnaise and the bread so he got out a knife and started spreading it on with even strokes. Tony didn’t bother to look up from his work. “Did you know that just about every appliance you own is broken?” 

Steve had been in the room for thirty seconds and was already ready to throw down with Tony again. Patience, he told himself. Don’t fight. 

“Yup. Kinda hard no to notice.” 

Tony nodded absent mindedly. “Cool, just checking.” 

That was anticlimactic. Was he actually just checking? In that case... “Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you could fix the water heater too?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll add it to the list. How was….whatever you were doing outside?” 

Steve mentally shook his head. Ok. This whole friends thing was going well. No fighting yet, at least. His younger cousins had been joking about him liking him right? Oh course they were. Weren’t they? Suddenly that was all he could think about. 

“I was tossing hay. It was fine.” he stuttered out, suddenly overly conscious of every word. 

“Great.” 

They fell into an awkward silence. Jan gave him a nudge, and he looked at her helplessly. What was he supposed to do? Hop on the table and burst into song? She shook her head at him, and he could tell she was thinking he was hopeless. He had never learned to do much in the way of small talk, since Tony was the first nonpack member to ever stay at their ranch. They had a couple of neighbors that would stop by to talk to his Ma, then they would be gone in an hour or to. He didn’t usually notice, since he was busy with chores or hanging out with Bucky. Bucky was the one who was smooth with girls. He was quick witted and charismatic and handsome. That's what all the old ladies said, ‘What a handsome boy’. Neither of them took any note of it until the girls their age started saying it too, whispering it behind their hands, their cheeks blushing pink. While their Ma would be inside the supermarket selling the milk and eggs, they would stand out front by the soda machine and all the other kids would gather around Bucky. He always had a wild story to wow them with, and when he got older he switched to charming the people at the local bar without a hitch. Steve didn't appreciate going to town the same way. He liked the ranch, he liked his pack. Outside, there were rules about what you could say or do around the normal humans. When he was eight, His Ma had banned him from the supermarket for a month after he got on all fours to sniff a kid. And he always found himself pushed towards the outside of the group. Nobody was ever mean. Bucky wouldn't have stood for that, and everyone wanted to impress Bucky. He just was there, standing in the back, lost in his daydreams while everyone else fought to be the center of attention. His Ma told him he'd grow out of it, and he had never figured out exactly what he was supposed to grow out of. Ten years after their first visit to town, people were still drawn to Bucky's aura of danger and mystery, and Steve was still the kid brother they all tolerated because it made Bucky happy and Steve never caused any trouble anyways. 

One night at the bar, he had been talking with a drunk girl. Steve liked talking to drunk people, because they never noticed when he stomped all over the social cues he was supposed to be hitting, and if he really messed up and pissed someone off, there was a decent chance they wouldn't remember it the next morning. They also had no filter, so he didn't have to try and guess if their words had some sort of secondary meaning he was missing because he hardly ever left the ranch. They were just honest. Plus sometimes they fell over and it was funny. So he was talking to a drunk girl, and she was going on and on about Bucky, just like every other person he had met since he was eleven and he had thought Margie Kepler was going to ask him out, and instead had asked him to introduce her to his brother. Steve didn't care. Ok, maybe he cared a little. The problem was, something about him was just so fundamentally good, you couldn't hate him no matter what he did. And it wasn't Bucky's fault people liked him better, Steve just wanted to know why. And he wanted one person to like him. Bucky could have the whole town hanging off his arm, and Steve wouldn't care as long as he knew that there was someone, just one person at the bar waiting specifically for him, Steve Rogers. Not Bucky’s kid brother, not Bucky's plus one, not the guy that got invited since he was here the last time and maybe if they invited him, Bucky would be more likely to show up. He explained all of this to the drunk girl, and she nodded her head. 

“Yeah. Yeah man, that's rough.” 

“So what's wrong with me? Why’s Bucky so much better?” He complained, crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on top. She shrugged and took a sip of her beer. It took her two tries to get it back on the coaster. 

“I dunno. I guess Bucky is just like, _intense_ , you know?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah! Like you look at him, and it's like, wow. _Wow_. He knows something we don't, and after the party is over we're all going to go back to our boring houses in this small boring town, and he's going to go somewhere secret and cool and spy on people and shoot bad guys or something.” 

“You like Bucky better because you think he's an assassin?” Steve asked, incredulous. She shook her head, tilting slightly off her stool. 

“It doesn't have to be all code names and crimes, that's not the point. He's just going somewhere cool to do important things while the rest of us live out our boring boring lives here, rotting away in this shitty bar and shittier town.” 

Steve was confused, and a little frustrated. He rubbed his face, and looked back at her, trying to explain what was so obvious to him. 

“He lives on a farm, with me. He goes home and makes sure Clint remembered to close the door to the barn. Tomorrow he might toss some hay. It's not cool, it's not interesting.” 

She waved her hand through the air, as if clearing his words away. “He makes it interesting. When he walks into a room you want to look at him. And when he looks back, god. His eyes are just really really clear, and it's intense. You, you're like… washed out. You're dull. Like his eyes are so crazy, like storms and clouds and shit, and you're like a pond. Not a good pond. The pond by my house with a lot of algae and too many ducks shitting in it. When I see his hair I think fun words like chestnut. You, I think words like dishwater blonde. He just makes it more somehow. He makes you want to be a part of that more, to hang around him until it rubs off on you.” 

She made a wide gesture with her arms and almost fell off her stool. Steve reached out to steady her and she slapped his hand away. “

And he's always in the center of the room, and he's always got something nice to say, and you're over here, moping in the corner that you're such a nice guy, why don't people like me?” She finished in a high mocking voice. 

Steve took a sip of his drink. “That was hurtful. I genuinely don't know why people don't like me, I’m trying to improve. That's why I was asking you.” 

“Bullshit, you were whining. And I'm telling you you'll never be a Bucky. I'll never be a Bucky either. Whatever he has, he's the only one in this entire godforsaken podunk town that's got it. Give up on being a Bucky, and just….” 

“Be myself?” 

“God no, you've got the personality of a wet dish towel. Just… just like, get off your ass, and go talk to people. It's not that hard, and I'm sure you'll find someone as boring as yourself eventually. Christ, I need another drink.” 

She stood up, and wobbled off. Steve hadn't bothered to try to flirt with anyone after that. Apparently Bucky just shat sunshine and rainbows, so Steve was just going to wait until his brother was off the market before he tried to ask someone out with his damp dish towel of a personality. 

Now he was regretting literally everything, as one of the best looking and smartest people he had ever met was standing in his kitchen looking at him and honest to god flirting, with Bucky nowhere to be found, and the only thing he could think of to say was ‘Um’. 

So he said um. 

“Um,” Steve said. 

Welp. That was enough for the day, time to go crawl into a ditch and die. He turned around and Jan grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Go talk to him!” She hissed. 

“I'm trying!” 

“Try harder!” 

He pulled his arm away. And looked back at Tony. He was grinning, obviously having heard the whole exchange. 

“So. Tony.” 

“Yes, Steve?” 

He blurted out the first thing he could think of. 

“Do you come here often?” 

Behind him he heard Jan slap a hand to her face, and Tony let out a snort. Why was he even doing this? He hated the guy yesterday and he still didn’t know how he felt today. Stupid Jan convincing him he should flirt. Steve felt his face heat, and he knew he was turning beet red. Tony decided to roll with it, thank god. 

“Do I come to your kitchen often? Never before this week, but I'm willing to change that now that I know it's filled with studs like you.” He drawled, finishing with a wink. Steve squeaked, turned even redder, and ran out of the room. Oh god he did like him. Ohhhhhh shit. In the hallway he leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. He was twenty one years old, he should not be acting like a dumb teenager. This was so far out of any of his previous experiences, and completely out of left field from the guy who had been screaming at him less than 24 hours ago. Inside the kitchen he heard Tony asking in confusion, “What did I say?” 

Jan was laughing too hard to answer. Every time she got a hold of herself, she would pause, then go right back into laughing. Steve thumped his head against the wall. Clint came inside, took off his boots and sat down next to him. 

“You and Tony have another fight?” he guessed, trying to figure out why he was on the floor. Steve shook his head sadly. 

“No, worse, he complimented me.” 

Clint whistled, long and low. “Oh yeah, that's rough. Last time a person gave me one of those, I was out for a week. Terrible things, just terrible.” Clint looked at him in mock pity. Steve sighed and put his head forward to rest against his knees where they were pulled up to his chest. “Tell me about it.” 

Clint patted him on the back consolingly. “So have you recovered? Do you think you're up to get back in there and give it another go? I promise I'll protect you if it looks like Tony's about to say something nice.” 

Steve didn’t look up. “I think I'd rather have you take me out back and shoot me. It'd be a mercy.” 

“All out of mercy today, sorry. You’re going to have to get back in there.” 

“No. Flirting is hard and Tony is scary.” 

“I can’t argue with ya there. Come on, if you were brave enough to fight him, you can be brave enough to talk to him. Let's go.” 

He pulled Steve to his feet and dragged him back inside the kitchen. 

“Hi guys, look who I found in the hallway. It's Steve, the most handsome and kind man in the whole world.” 

“What are you doing?” Steve looked at him like he had hit his head. 

“Shut up, I'm being your wing man!” He hissed back, before switching back to his overly loud voice, drowning out Steve as he desperate pleaded that he really, for sure, definitely did not want a wing man, or even to try to flirt any more. Clint was not dissuaded. 

“Gee Janny, remember the time he found a baby goose and raised it himself after we found it's Ma splattered on the road?” 

“No Clint, please tell me more.” Said Jan with fiendish glee. 

“Yeah, actually, tell us about it.” Tony chimed in. 

Ok, Steve understood Jan and Clint trying to set him up. The question was, why was Tony playing along? This was just embarrassing, a high class guy like him had to be used to a lot more flash and charm than this. Even if somehow Jan and Clint had been right and he liked him, that sure wasn’t going to last for long with Clint acting as ‘wingman’. 

“Actually, that was the whole story. She still stops by in the summer when migrating. He's kind to animals, that's the point. I bet he's gotten Dottie out of that ditch a hundred times, easy. She's been getting in there every week since the fence broke.” 

“Who is Dottie?” Tony tilted his head, distracted for a moment from Steve’s embarrassment. Maybe that was why he was encouraging them. He wanted to see him squirm. That was a hell of a lot more likely than him actually having any sort of actual interest. 

Clint continued on. “Steve never introduced you to Dottie? He loves Dottie! She's his favorite cow.” 

“I don't have a favorite, and none of the cows have names because they are animals and not people, and we shouldn't give them human feelings or be sad when they die.” Steve recited automatically, the familiar words drilled into him by his Ma from a young age. 

“You were the one who named her, stupid.” Clint punched his arm. 

Steve grimaced. “A youthful mistake.” 

“She was born three years ago.” 

Steve shrugged with a guilty look. Clint waved him off. “Don't listen to him. He loves Dottie, he thinks that one of theses days she's going to escape and go on some grand adventure. Mostly she just ends up in the ditch and Steve has to haul her out.” 

“She's exploring the ditch first. You can't go straight from the ranch to somewhere like Paris, you gotta start small. She's setting realistic goals for herself, that's commendable.” 

“You should introduce Tony to her, before she starts her world tour and starts forgetting her small town roots.” 

“Tony hates cows.” 

“Yup. Sorry. No cows for me.” 

Jan took no excuses. “You live on a ranch, you're going to have to learn to love them at some point. Go meet Dottie, we'll take care of dinner.” Jan said, shooing them out. She shoved Tony into the hallway, still holding his screwdriver and a part of the stove. Tony shrugged and looked over at him. “I guess we're going to go meet a cow then.” 

Steve sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, and hope he wasn't still red. “I'm sorry about that, please ignore them. They're trying to help set us up, since they think I'm hopeless.” 

“Do they really need to set us up though? We’re engaged, it’s a done deal. Though, you are a tiny bit hopeless.” He said, holding up his fingers a little apart to demonstrate his hopelessness in terms of physical inches. It was three inches of hopelessness, by Steve’s estimation. He crossed his arms. Did that mean he didn't like him anymore? Was he right earlier and Tony wanted to string him along to embarrass him? Was this flirting? Should he flirt back? What should he say? Would he get mad if he said the wrong thing? Probably. No, definitely. Tony had a shorter temper than him, and he didn’t want to piss him off again in case this really was… something. He didn’t know what to say. It should be interesting, he wanted to impress him. Wait, since when did he ever care about what other people thought? Fucking feelings, always being confusing. And now Steve had zoned out again, he needed to say something before it got weird. 

“Did you know that cows have two stomachs? And they eat things the first time around, then throw it up as cud and eat it again.” 

Tony looked at him, horrified. Ok, that was the wrong thing to say. 

“They what? I changed my mind, I don’t want to meet your strange alien cow.” 

“Not my cow! Well, she is my cow. All cows! They all do this because eating grass is actually really hard.” he tried to explain. 

“Why are you telling me this???” 

“I thought it might be interesting?” 

“It’s gross!” 

“I thought you wouldn’t care. You’re fine getting covered in soot and oil.” Steve said desperately. 

“That doesn’t mean I want to step in cow vomit, stupid.” 

“It stays in their mouths, _stupid_.” 

“That’s not much better! Please, please, never tell me another cow fact.” 

“By the end of the year you’ll know so much about cows you could write a book. You’ll be telling me cow facts. And I will already know them, because I’ve ate, breathed, and slept cows my entire life,” They arrived at the part of the fence that always broke, where Dottie liked to hang out. “So anyway, this is Dottie.” 

Tony bent over and looked at her curiously. “How do you know? She looks exactly like all of the other cows.” 

“She’s got dots. That’s why she’s called Dottie.” 

“They’ve all got dots, are they all called Dottie?” 

“No, quit being rude. You’ll hurt her feelings.” 

Tony sighed and straightened up. “I told you up front, day one, that I hated cows. They’re for eating and eating only, preferably prepackaged from the store as hamburgers. Juicy, juicy, hamburgers.” He said the last part to Dottie, who looked at him curiously. Steve let out an exaggerated gasp. He covered Dottie’s ears and she shook his hands off with any annoyed moo. Steve settled for stroking her back. 

“I can’t believe you said that in front of her. She’s sensitive. I wouldn’t talk about eating _your_ friends.” 

Dottie continued to eat, and Steve could tell that underneath her stoic facade, she was really broken up on the inside. 

“I don’t have any friends.” Tony whined, kicking at a clump of dirt. “I have Dr. Dolittle and his two sidekicks.” 

Steve frowned, concerned. “You’re not trapped here, you can take the truck and visit home. And we go into town every other day to drop off the milk and eggs at the grocery store and a few other houses, you can come with us tomorrow.” He probably should have clarified that earlier. He didn’t want Tony to feel trapped, even if he had just broken Dottie’s soft marshmallow heart. 

“Yeah. I’d like that.” 

They stood in silence. Was this a comfortable silence or a awkward one? Was there a way to find out? Could he decide it was a nice silence and leave it at that? If he said something, they’d probably fight. Was that bad? He kinda liked the fighting they were doing on the way over here, it felt more playful than mean. Did Tony see it that way? Did he like him? He was overthinking things, lost in his head like usual. What was his problem again? Not an assassin? That wasn’t it. Not intense enough. His problem was that he was dull. His idea of showing a guy a good time was taking him to meet his cows. That drunk girl was right, he needed to up his game to impress a big city guy like Tony who had already been everywhere and done everything. Not sure how he’d do that, with three bucks to his name. 

Well, worse case scenario, he had thirty five other cows to introduce him to. 

Steve peered over at Tony. He seemed pretty content to just stand here with him and pet Dottie. Maybe he was having fun taking some time to slow down, to enjoy the simple life on the ranch. 

“Can we go inside now? I’m bored out of my mind.” Tony complained. 

Ok, no, maybe not. He was a little bored too, and it was his cow. Steve guessed that he could show him around town tomorrow, and just have to think of something new after that. He’d ask Jan too, even if she was younger. While he thought to himself, Tony had moved on to apologizing. 

“I’m sorry, that was mean. Your cow isn’t boring. I have a habit of saying whatever I’m thinking, happens when you grow up rich enough that everyone’s too afraid to tell you to shut up. You totally can though. I can’t promise I’ll listen. Heh. That was a joke. I will listen. Probably. Um.” Tony stalled out. 

Steve jumped in to reassure him. “No, it’s helpful. Wait, no, I meant nice. And helpful. Um. Both. Look, I like not having to guess what you’re thinking. Makes things easier, I’m bad at reading people.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Tony nodded. “Yeah, me too. Obie always told me I trusted people too easily. That I rolled over like a pup for a treat every time someone told me I did a good job. I think he took advantage of it a little to be honest. He only did it because he loves me, though.” he concluded. 

One of these days Steve was going to have to bring up his concerns about Stane. Tony seemed to have a blind spot when considering his motives. Steve got the vibe that he was only looking out for number one, and Tony’s welfare came a distant second. He would bring it up the next time they saw him. Steve’s gut was rarely wrong, and it told him Stane was bad news. 

They went back to the house, where Jan had finished making the sandwiches. They sat down at the table and ate, Clint talking animatedly, and Jan kicking him under the table. Steve got involved in the debate too, since crickets really were the best fishing bait, and if they weren’t, than why had he caught more fish than Clint last time? They all turned to Tony to ask him to be the judge. When he admitted he had never been fishing, Clint let out a screech and clasped a hand to his heart. 

“It’s a dumb sport!” Tony laughed. 

“It’s not a sport! It’s a lifestyle!” he said, with mock outrage. 

“It’s competitive waiting,” Tony said helplessly. “Steve, back me up.” 

He shook his head sadly. “Sorry Tony, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for a divorce. The sea will always be my first love.” he said dramatically, striking a pose with one leg up on his chair. Tony grabbed his arm and draped himself over him. Oh. Steve brain stalled out. That was… that was a lot. Tony was warm and light and Steve felt the back of his neck heat up. Why was he like this? Tony didn’t seem to think it was weird, or notice his embarrassment, continuing on with his playacting. 

“No! It doesn’t have to be this way! You don’t have to pick between me and the fish, because I have a terrible secret I’ve been keeping from you all this time.” 

“All three days of it?” asked Jan with a snort. 

“All two and a half,” Tony corrected. 

“More like two and three quarters, actually.” Steve corrected back. Tony briefly pressed a finger to Steve’s lips to shush him. 'Oh my god he's so close', Steve thought. He hoped his internal freak out wasn’t showing on his face. 

“Shush! Steven! Do you want to know the secret or not?” 

He smiled half genuinely and half out of pure nervous panic, then schooled his face and nodded back solemnly. 

Tony continued. “Good. My secret is, that there is a whole world of supernatural creatures out there, existing right beneath your very noses. And though I appear normal to you now, I have powers of the most wicked kind. I have the unnatural ability to transform myself from the normal human you see before you, into a twisted amalgamation that is equal parts a creature most dreadful.” 

They all looked at him, confused. All four of them were werewolves, they knew this. 

“Steve, I must confess….I’m a mermaid.” 

They all burst into raucous laughter, and Tony pulled away. For all of his embarrassment, he was immediately sad to lose the contact. He grabbed Tony around the waist and pulled him back, and to his surprise he went easily, still laughing. 

“No, Steve, listen, I’m-” He had to pause to catch his breath and every time he breathed in he pressed against Steve’s side and suddenly he got why Bucky was always blowing them off to go hang out at his girlfriend Natasha’s. Tony looked up at him, and he decided that he did want a real romantic relationship with him, or at least wanted to try. It was hard to remember his doubts when he had his pack around him, laughing, and Tony in front of him, loud and rackous and aggressively full of life. He was doing his roaring hearty laugh again, that had got Steve right from the start. 

“I’m a fucking werefish! I have a tail and a trident and fish friends and everything!” 

“Tony no! No!” He mock wailed. 

“It’s true! It’s true!” he insisted, giggling. 

“Well, I guess we better go see!” Steve picked him up. It was easier than he expected. He was a big guy, strong from work on the ranch, and Tony was much smaller than the bales of hay he hauled around almost everyday. Tony yelled as he was lifted, and clutched at Steve's shirt. Oh right. This was probably really weird, huh? Too late now, Steve was running with it. 

“Put me down!” Tony yelled. 

Clint and Jan already knew where this was going. Clint grabbed the cranberry juice from the fridge, Jan the plastic cups, and they all ran outside in the dark down to the pond, Tony bouncing up and down on Steve’s shoulder. When they reached the shores of the pond, Steve set a disgruntled Tony back on his feet. Tony brushed his hair back into place and tugged his shirt straight. “Oh thank god, I thought you were going to throw me in.” 

“For saying you were a mermaid? We would never. That water’s freezing.” Clint said with an innocent expression. He poured four cups of cranberry juice and handed them out. They all took one, and Clint raised his cup. “To our magical mechanic mermaid!” 

Jan then raised hers. “To a fixed furnace and finally some fabulous friendship!” 

Steve raised his last. “To happiness, healing, hope, hearth and home.” 

“And hombres!” yelled Clint. 

“And hombres.” Steve agreed. “Wait, hombres? It's amigos, Clint. Anyway, we swear to always have your back, through good times- ” 

They all took a drink, Tony a couple seconds behind as he struggled to figure out what was going on. 

“And through bad.” Steve finished, and they polished off their drinks. 

“Can I do it?” begged Clint, practically dancing with excitement. 

“As pack Alpha, I do believe that it is my privilege. Sorry Clint. And sorry Tony.” 

And with that, he shoved him backwards into the pond. Tony hit the water with a splash, and immediately swam back up to the surface, teeth chattering. 

“What was that?” he yelled angrily. The other three just smiled. 

“Tony Stark, as pack Alpha, it is my honor to welcome you to the Rogers’ pack. Congratulations on passing initiation.” 

Tony was too vindicated to be mad. “I fucking called it! I knew it! Day one, I said it was going to involve me getting wet. And I was right. I was right!” 

Funny how two days ago he was planning to never let Tony join the pack, just so he could avoid this moment, and now he didn’t care. Hell, he thought it was funny, how satisfied Tony was about being right, even while looking like a drowned puppy. 

“Yup. And yet, you were still surprised.” Steve kneeled on the bank and reached out his hand to help pull him up. Tony grabbed his hand and put one foot on the wall of dirt. He used the leverage to pull and with a yelp Steve slid into the pond face first. He popped up to the surface with an outraged gasp. “I take it back, you failed initiation.” 

Tony splashed him in the face. Clint pulled off his shirt and cannon balled into the water between them, soaking them both. Jan jumped in right behind, splashing Clint as he came back up. It quickly devolved into a water fight of epic proportions. It was hours before they squwelched their way home in their wet cloths. The broke apart at the stairs to go to their separate rooms, and Steve stopped Tony. He leaned awkwardly in the doorway while he stood in the hall, water slowing dripping off of them to hit the floor with small plinks, sprinkling dots like stars on the swirls of the wood. 

“Welcome to the pack.” Steve said quietly. He meant welcome home. He meant, here is my family, here is my house, here is everything I’ve built, and everything I plan on building. I’m offering it all to you, and trusting you not to destroy it. Tony looked deep into his eyes, and seemed to get it. In the darkness of the hallway, everything felt small and quiet, like they were the only two people left in the whole world. Without thinking he put a hand on Tony's cheek, grounding himself, and Tony rested his on Steve’s chest, still wet from the pond. 

“Thank you.” Tony whispered, and leaned up. He gently pressed his lips to Steve’s, soft and sweet. As quick as he started he broke off the kiss and brushed past him down the hall. Steve slowly brought a hand to his lips. 

Yeah, he was pretty much screwed when it came to Tony. He had skipped straight from hate to indifference to head over heels, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He went to bed with a smile on his face, the warmth of the kiss still lingering.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony in exchange for a dowry to save his family ranch. After a bumpy start, they start getting along and Tony officially joins the pack.  
> In this chapter, they go into town and Tony meets an old friend. Steve goes to the bank to cash his check. Neither of those things go well.

### 

Steve woke up the next morning before his alarm. He shut them both off at the same time and got out of bed. He slapped on his watch and hurried to get dressed. They were going into town today, and there was a lot they needed to get down before they could go. He pulled on his pants, cursed his past self for _still_ not doing laundry, and put on the cleanest of his shirts. He trotted out to the barn, and opened the door to let the cows out. He grabbed the basket by the door, and started gathering the eggs from beneath the sleepy hens. He filled his basket in no time, and went back inside the house. He slotted them into cartons without washing them. Eggs naturally had a coating around the outside protecting them, and washing it off made them spoil faster. It probably wouldn't fly in the big city supermarkets, but out here people appreciated it. He filled as many cartons as he could while still reserving eggs for his pack’s breakfast. The stove was still in pieces, so he cracked the eggs into a pot, whisked them together with a fork and shoved them in the oven set to ‘volcano’. Jan wandered downstairs into the kitchen. 

“You're up early.” 

He shrugged. “Tony wanted to come into town with us, plus I need to finally pay off the bank, so I thought we'd make a whole day of it.” 

Jan smirked, and casually bent over to check the eggs. “Ah, you're going to show Tony the town. I see, I see.” 

“Oh, shut up.” He said with a blush. He should be used to Jan's teasing by now, but anything involving Tony seemed to make him red as a tomato. Jan was loving getting a rise out of him. 

“No, this is good, this is progress. I thought we were going to have to wait until you were both eighty before you made a move. Maybe you'd dare to kiss him on your fifty year anniversary.” 

“Oh, I already did that.” He said. Maybe it was a little smug. Just a little. 

“What? No! You didn't! You did?” Jan looked at him with wide eyes. 

Steve just laughed. “Watch the eggs, I'm going out to take care of the cows.” 

“Steven Grant Rogers you can't just say that and run away! Get back here!” She yelled in outrage, waving a spoon in the air. He ignored her threats. 

“I'll tell you later, don't burn my eggs!” 

He stepped outside into the brisk air once again. He grabbed the pails from the barn and went to the field where the cows grazed. Dottie approached him first. “Hey girl. How are you? Are you going to be a good cow today and stay inside the fence? Or is today your big break? I think you should go for it, I think today's the day.” 

Dottie mooed. 

“That's my girl.” He patted her side and started milking her. After he made it through a few cows, Clint came outside and started helping. In an hour more, they were done. 

They brought the milk inside where Jan was trying to casually interrogate Tony. Some people would call it harassment. Jan called it “Getting the deets” and was downright ruthless. Tony didn’t seem phased. Probably was used to worse, with a larger pack back home. 

He sat down at the table and Jan slid him a plate of eggs. He ate quickly and gathered up the dishes. He tossed them in the sink to do later, and started herding everyone towards the truck. He took the driver's seat, and after a vigorous game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Tony claimed shotgun. The other two got in the bed, along with the milk and eggs. Steve started up the car, second try, and they were off. The half hour ride to town was peaceful, it still being too early for Clint and Jan to squabble. Tony dozed with his head resting on the window. The pack started to wake up more when he stopped the truck at the first house they delivered to. Clint carried a carton of eggs and a gallon of milk to the front door, and they moved on to their next stop. It was a Monday, so they had about six houses to deliver to. When they finished with the houses, Steve drove them the final stretch into town. He parked the truck, and they all helped carry the remaining milk jugs and eggs inside the grocery store. Steve did his usual haggling with the grocer, while Tony wandered around exploring the store. At this point it was almost eleven, so Clint and Jan left to go save them a table at the bar, where they could get lunch before they finished up their errands. After a few minutes of friendly negotiations Steve was able to get a satisfactory price, and the grocer handed over a chunk of cash. He would be getting most of it back anyway, after the pack came back after lunch to stock up. Steve wasn't going to suffer through the rest of the week surviving on canned ravioli if he could help it. He found Tony wandering through the cereal aisles, and they went outside to find the other two. 

There was a flash behind them, and the both turned. A girl dressed in an expensive pink blouse and skinny jeans was frowning at her bedazzled phone. “I always forget to turn the flash off,” she said with a pout. Tony put his hands on his hips. 

“Hello Indries. What are you doing in Evergreen?” 

“Oh, you know, just enjoying the small town charm. Did you know they only have one bar? How quaint.” 

“Or maybe the word is that the Rogers pack comes down here to sell their milk around this time, and you decided to pop down here and do it a bit of spying for Obie.” 

She let out a tittering laugh, unrepentant. “I guess I’m caught. What can I say? He worries. That’s quite the scratch you have there, sweetie. A certain someone give you a smack?” 

“Hand over the phone.” 

She gave it to Tony with an exaggerated sigh. Tony moved the photo she took of him and Steve to the trash, then cleared the trash for good measure before handing it back. 

“You’re such a dick sometimes. Would one little photo really hurt? It’d make Obie happy, and you want to make him happy don’t you, after all he’s done for you.” 

“Tony’s not a dick, and he doesn’t owe either of you anything.” Steve said to defend him. 

“Oh!” Indries tittered. “Blondie talks for you now, Tony? You know, I’ve been here a few days, and you haven’t. Is this the first time he’s let you leave the house?” She ignored Steve like he wasn’t there. That hurt a little. Tony glared her down, also ignoring Steve. 

“It’s not like that and you know it.” 

“Do I?” 

“Let’s just go, we don’t need to talk to her.” Steve said. He grabbed Tony’s arm and he shook him off angrily. 

“I don’t need you to protect me. Fuck off.” 

Steve gave him a hurt look, and walked away. He walked behind the bar then instead of going inside he looped around between buildings to listen in on what they were saying. Not polite, but whatever. This was the first person Steve had seen from Tony’s past, and he was curious. When he peered around the corner, he saw that Indries was inspecting her nails, smug. 

“Was it Freud who said kids want to grow up to marry boys just like their daddies?” 

“It was my choice to stay inside and learn the family business when I was young. And it was my choice to spend a few days settling in now.” Tony’s eyes were bright with rage. “Knock it off with this psychoanalysis bullshit, we both know you only passed ‘Intro To Psych’ because you were fucking the TA.” 

“Oh Tony, I don’t need a class to see what’s right in front of everyone’s noses. Your choice? Really? You stayed inside all day everyday, no time for your friends, not like you had any anyway besides me. Everyone else only stuck around because you paid them. Then your folks kicked the bucket and suddenly you’re out every night. We had such nice times together, remember those? Now you’re hanging out with that pale lump of lard and you’ve stopped calling me, stopped calling Obie. You finally show up here, days later, and you’re all beat up. We’re all concerned Tony, we just want what’s best for you.” 

“Where were you when Yinsen died, huh? I called you, and what did you say? Tony I’m busy, Tony he was just some random coworker, calm down, come have a drink, did you hear about the party Friday? Fuck you.” 

“I was trying to take your mind off things, and I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to help.” 

“You’re trying to spy." Tony said dismissively. " You wouldn’t be here if Obie didn’t tell you to come. Get out of here.” 

“You know, just because you’re rich, doesn’t mean you can get away with being a total dick all the time. Guess what? I’m rich too, and furthermore, I’m your best friend, so you don’t get to treat me like this.” 

“You’re the first person I call when I want to get wasted. We’re not friends, and I don’t know if we ever were.” 

“I’m going to tell Mr. Stane all of this, and then you’ll be sorry.” she said with a huff. 

“Yeah, go tattle back to the pack Alpha.” 

“Whatever you want to call it to make yourself feel better. Let's wrap this up, I need to go dress shopping. I want to look my best at your funeral after your pet dog kills you and feeds your body to his pigs.” 

“They’re cows! And Dottie is more of a lady than you’ll ever be!” 

“You named the cows? God, I take it back. You and the hillbilly are perfect for each other. You can shovel cow shit all day together, then at night he can beat you up and you’ll thank him. Before you know it, you’ll be half feral and marking your territory with piss. I’ve heard that they still shift, that they run around on hands and feet like wild animals. Fighting each other. Killing things. Eating them. Is it true?” Indries asked with morbid fascination. 

Tony looked away and crossed his arms defensively. “It’s none of your business what my pack does.” 

Indries' mouth fell open. “That’s a yes. God, in this day and age." She leaned in and Steve had to strain to hear even with werewolf senses. "You need to be carefully, Tony," she cautioned. "I brought you a bag. A full month’s dose. Surrounded by these savages the pull is going to be even stronger. Don’t surrender yourself to the beast.” 

Tony threw out his arms, ignoring the proffered bag. “What if it wasn’t like that? What if our wolf sides weren’t uncontrollable?” 

“That’s dangerous thinking, the type that got your precious coworker killed. Take your shots before you turn into a monster, it’s not that hard.” She shoved the bag into Tony’s arms. “Have a nice day, Mr. Rogers.” 

“I’m not married yet. And you’re officially uninvited to my wedding.” 

“Uninvited?" She laughed. "Tony dearest, I’m planning it! I’m thinking about switching the colors to brown and black to match your cows. I’ll see you then, try not to get hit in the face anymore. I found a great photographer, and it would just ruin the pictures.” 

Indries waved and walked off, tottering as she tried to navigate the dirt road in her four inch stiletto ‘boots’. Tony stormed off in the other direction, and Steve rushed around to beat him back to the bar. The inside of the bar was cool compared to the heat of the outside, and it had a welcoming feeling. The pack was crowded together around a banged up wooden table near the back, laughing and talking together. Steve sat down and moments later Tony sunk into the chair between Steve and Jan with a tired sigh.There was no bag to be seen. 

“You doin’ alright, Tony?” Steve asked. 

“Getting there.” he said with a faded smile. 

Steve didn’t think much of Tony’s city friend. If they were all like that, no wonder he was happy to stay. And some of the things she said… did city wolves not shift anymore? Steve had always assumed that they drove out to the nearest open area to run free. He had never thought they would stop completely. Steve wasn’t even sure how that was possible. Being a wolf was as natural to him as being human, two equal parts making up the whole that was Steve. Voluntarily staying purely human seemed like voluntarily cutting off one of your hands. Sure, with a lot of trouble you could. The question was, why would you want to? He spent most of his time in human form because he had chores to do and they required opposable thumbs, but if he went longer than a week without shifting he felt a constant pull inside him, drawing him towards the woods. And during the full moon it was almost impossible to resist, his wolf side drawn to run wild and free under silvery light. 

Indries made it sound like all the city wolves locked themselves up, drugged themselves up, did everything they could to not acknowledge their wolf side, treating it like some sort of boogieman. 

Then that left Tony, the epitome of a city wolf. Who took ten minutes to make a painful shift. Who first responded to Steve’s wolf challenge with shock and terror. Then, a decent amount of skill, giving it back as almost as good as he got. Who got rid of the drugs that would reduce the need to shift. 

Steve wasn’t sure what to think. 

### 

They ate a leisurely lunch, then headed over to the bank so that they could finally pay off their loans on the house. Stepping into the air conditioned bank from the heat of the street outside always made him shiver. There was an intimidation factor there too, since he never felt more like a country hick than when he was walking down the bank's polished hallways, his books soiling the clean floors. All along the hallways stretched tidy offices, each containing a bureaucrat with the power to take away the land that his family had owned for generations. 

Well, not after today. This was the first time a he had stepped foot in the bank to actually pay off a loan, and not beg for more time or yet another. It was a heady feeling. 

They sat in the waiting room together, Clint and Jan on their best behavior under Steve’s sharp eye. Tony wandered around the room, sitting in a chair, bouncing a few times, then getting up to wander again. Steve shoved all of the pens from the table into his pocket. He would use them for drawing later, and figured the bank could spare him a few measly pens after all the interest his family had paid over the years. So he was petty. Sue him. 

After a long fifteen minutes, there was finally a wave from the office he was waiting for. He gave his pack one last stern look, and walked over. Steve entered the neat office, which mostly filled with a fake wooden desk and the squinting man behind it. A picture of a lake hung on the back wall, like it was pretending to be a window under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. A clock ticked quietly in the corner. What was it with offices and clocks? Did they really need to know the time down to the very second? Even without werewolf hearing, the ticking had to get grating. Honestly, smashing it would be doing him a favor. 

“Hello, Mr. Rogers.” the aging man said. 

Right, now was not the time for clock smashing. It was time for sweet sweet _vindication._

“Hello, Mr. Stern. I’ve come into some money recently, and I’m here to pay off the house.” 

“That’s excellent news. I’ve worked with your family for quite a few years, I really didn’t want to have to foreclose on your ranch. It’s really a huge part of the history of the area.” 

“Part of the history of my family too. Here is a check I received from Mr. Stane, written out to me. It should cover the full accounts on both the house and truck.” 

He handed over the check. The banker read it over, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Rogers, I’m afraid there must have been a misunderstanding. You’re still about fifteen thousand short, on the house loan alone.” 

Steve blinked in shock and shook his head. “No, my cousin did the math, that should be enough.” 

“I’m sorry Mr. Rogers, that’s incorrect. You’re still short. You still have three weeks before I have to file the paperwork to take further action, is there any way you could raise the money in time?” 

“Fifteen grand in three weeks? Not without selling cows, and without them we’d be right back in debt. Are you sure it’s not enough?” he asked desperately. The banker pretended to look contrite but Steve could practically smell the waves of predatory satisfaction rolling off the man. 

“You can double check the numbers right here. Monthly compounding on the original loan adds up to more than you have there. Sorry, son. It’s not enough.” 

Steve put his head in his hands. “Jesus. Not enough. Nothing is ever enough, is it?” 

The banker put a hand on his shoulder. “Now Mr. Rogers…” 

Steve stood up abruptly, cutting him off. “Thank you for your time. I need to get going now.” 

He turned and walked briskly out of the office, his legs feeling stiff and unnatural, down the hall to where everyone was sitting. He walked past them without saying anything, straight to the truck. It felt like the whole bank had watched him leave, whispering behind their hands. He got in, locked the doors and rested his head on the steering wheel. 

A few moments later Jan knocked on the window with gentle concern. He didn’t look up, and after a minute she went away. He sat in the car for what felt like hours, thinking in circles. There was no way to get the money in time. They were screwed. He had failed his family traditions, hundreds of years of legacies, his Ma, his pack. They had three weeks before they lost everything. Where would they go? What would they do? They had lived on the ranch their whole lives, they didn’t know how to do anything besides raise milk cows. None of them had a highschool education. They were home schooled before that, to limited success. Best thing to do would be to take ‘em out back and put ‘em down. 

It wasn’t fair. He had done everything he could, and then some. But wasn’t ever good enough, was it? It wasn’t even his fault, he had inherited a load of responsibilities and twice as much debt. It was the bank’s fault for being so unforgiving, his family’s fault for taking on so many loans, his Ma and Bucky’s fault for leaving him alone to deal with all this when he wasn’t ready and never wanted it, it was Stane’s fault for not shelling out just a bit more, and most of all it was Clint’s fault, for not being able to do some interest and basic addition. This was their whole future and he couldn’t even put in the effort to double check the numbers? Steve was willing to marry a complete stranger to save the ranch and Clint wasn’t willing to take what they had and subtract what they needed correctly? And now it was too late to do anything. How hard was it? He screwed over the pack so he could go outside and fish? So he could laze around the house and gossip with Jan? None of that anymore, because they were going to lose the house. Steve got out of the truck. He stomped over to where his pack was awkwardly loitering in the front of the bank. As he approached, Clint tried to ask what had happened in there. Instead of answering Steve stepped towards him, fist held back. Tony stepped between them, holding out an arm, while Jan moved in front of Clint. 

“What’s all this for?” Clint asked, hurt and surprised. Steve leaned forward against Tony’s arm, wanting to get at Clint but unwilling to push him over. Tony briskly patted his arm with his other hand. 

“Easy, big guy, what happened?” 

“Clint fucked up the math and lied to us how much the bank needed.” he growled, his fist clenched, his face red. 

“I didn’t lie! I told you when I lost the coin flip that I’m bad at math!” Clint whined, his eyes downcast in shame. Steve was unforgiving. 

“We’re all bad at math! You lost the coin flip so it was your job to do it! You needed to step up! I’ve stepped up to role of pack Alpha, I’ve stepped up to running the ranch, I negotiated a deal with Stane and lord knows how bad I am at diplomacy! If I could get enough money to cover our bills negotiating with a born and bred businessman with absolutely nothing to negotiate with, the least you could do is figure out how much I was supposed to negotiate for! You failed! You failed this family and now were going to lose everything!” 

He shoved Tony back and lunged at Clint, then fell face first onto the ground as Tony used his own momentum against him to trip him. He pushed himself back up to his feet with a growl. The desire to shift and duke it out was strong, but in public like this, that wasn't an option. Before he made it even a step Tony dropped him again with a sweeping kick. Though he was average fighter at best as a wolf, he must have taken some sort of self defense class as a human. Steve learned his lesson and stayed on the ground. He reached out with one hand to grab for Clint’s ankle as Jan ushered him back and towards the car. Tony stomped on his hand. Hard. Steve howled and curled around it for a second. He flexed it, then made a fist. No broken fingers. He sat up and Tony tensed. 

“You going to behave this time?” 

“You’re a bastard. I hate you.” 

“Glad we got that cleared up. Take a deep breathe and count to ten there, champ.” 

“You need to step back. It isn’t any of your business what goes on in my pack.” Steve snarled, taking out his rage on whoever was nearest. So, Tony. But since it was Tony, he wasn’t taking it lying down. 

“Nu uh, I didn’t get pushed into a lake for nothing. I am part of this pack, and I have every right to tell you that this isn’t discipline, this is bullying. Just because you’re being a huge baby and having a little tantrum doesn’t mean you get to take it out on Clint.” 

“I’m being a baby? My life is over! Jan’s life is over! And you wanna be part of the pack? Fine! Your life can be over too!” 

“It’s not over! Man up and fix it!” Tony snarled through gritted teeth. Steve slammed a fist into the ground. 

“You and the fixing! Snotty rich brat wants to come slum it with the commoners, meet up with his rich friends and gossip about them behind their backs. You’re going to swoop in a fix everything because you’re so much smarter and better than the rest of us, and our problems are so easy to solve if we weren't dumb as a sack of bricks. Then after you’ve ‘fixed’ me, ‘fixed’ my family, ‘fixed’ my way of life, you'll trot off back to your ivory castle patting yourself on the back.” 

Tony didn’t flinch. “No I won’t. I’m trying to help, if you’d get your head out of your ass long enough to accept it.” 

“That’s not why you came. You came because you’re running away from something. Well guess what? Helping my pack won’t do anything.” 

“You shut up. At least I’m trying.” Tony looked like he either wanted to murder him or go cry. Maybe both. Steve kinda felt like crying too. 

“Like I’m not trying? Like I don’t wake up at four or five every morning and work until it’s dark, like I don’t save every penny I can, like I traded away part of my future so the bank could tell me I’m not good enough? Fuck it, if my best isn’t good enough, I’m not even going to try. I’m done. I’m going back to the ranch.” 

“You’re not fighting Clint.” Tony said, the threat clear in his voice. 

“I’m not fighting anybody.” Steve was suddenly so tired he felt like he could barely stand. He trudged back to the truck, and collapsed in the back in the bed. The sky was annoyingly bright and blue above him, and the warmth of the truck bed sunk through his shirt into his back. He could hear his pack having a discussion a few yards away, their words muffled by both distance and his lack of care. No matter what they said, they couldn’t change anything. Steve closed his eyes. He could feel his hands shake a little with after fight jitters. He flexed the hand Tony had stepped on. Wondered if it would bruise. The bites from their par had been playful. This injury, Tony had meant to hurt. He heard footsteps approach the car, and it shook side to side as everyone got in. The engine started, and they started the long drive home. 

When they got back to the house, Steve hopped out of the bed of the truck before it stopped moving, and stormed inside the house up to his room. He slammed the door and collapsed on the bed. The afternoon sun cast short shadows through the window, overexposing how ratty and dirty his room was in a grating bright light. He laid face down, then after a half hour of not being bothered, he turned over to watched dust motes dance through the air. 

No cloudy thoughts on sunny days. Yeah right. 

Steve knew he should go downstairs and apologize to Tony and Clint. He should be working with the others to try to come up with another plan. But after months of worrying, he had finally reached his breaking point. He was done caring. Steve buried his head in his pillow. It smelled like sweat and cows since he still hadn’t fucking done laundry. He threw it on the floor and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway done! Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony in order to use his dowry to pay off the debts on the ranch. After going to the bank, they find out they're still short. Steve and Tony have a second fight.  
> In this chapter, Steve mopes and tries to get his life together. Secrets are shared and a plan is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: several deaths are described, I tried not to be too graphic.  
> I made a mistake with the chapters, I labeled two different chapters #6, and I decided to put the ending in a new chapter, so it turns out there's actually 12 chapters in this story, not 10. Tony originally had a much longer and sadder backstory that I removed while editing and that messed up my chapters a bit. Tony's past still isn't all puppies and rainbows, and I think we got more than enough extra sadness from Steve here.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> 

The next morning Steve’s alarm went off at 5 as usual. He shut it off. Ten minutes later his second alarm sounded. He picked up his watch and shut that one off too. He didn’t get up. He laid on his bed, and watched the shadows shorten as the sun worked its way across the sky. It was cloudy outside. He could have whatever thoughts he felt like. If he wanted to spend the day being sad about Bucky and Ma and his pack and the ranch, no one was going to stop him. He couldn’t believe how little he had been thinking about Bucky and Ma. He was forgetting them, he was a terrible person. And now he was letting their memories down again and again and again. Steve tossed fitfully in the bed. 

Absolutely nothing was going on, and somehow it was all too much. Around noon, there was a gentle knock at the door. Steve didn’t respond, and after a moment Jan let herself in. She took a breath. “Look, I’m still mad at you for yelling at Clint and trying to go after him. But I think it’s important that everybody gets along, so maybe you want to come get some lunch, and we could talk it out?” 

Steve didn’t bother to turn his head, his eyes still half closed and locked on the wall. 

“Steve? Are you having one of your days?” 

He still didn’t respond, hoping she would go away. Instead she walked over, and ran her hand through his hair a few times. She sighed, and he closed his eyes, feeling the soft puff of her breath against his cheek. 

“I never know what to do when you’re like this. Maybe talking to Clint would fix it?” 

He still didn’t respond. His head felt heavy and blank. He felt like there was a thin layer of cloth between him and the rest of the world, and anything he said or did wouldn’t actually translate over. Jan pet his hair a few more times, and got up. 

“There’s canned ravioli in the kitchen if you want any. Clint and I will be outside, I think Tony’s still fixing the stove. He doesn’t have the right parts so I guess he’s trying to make them. We’ll talk at dinner, yeah? Pack harmony is important.” 

She stood in the doorway for a second, not sure how to conclude. Finally she turned and walked away, back to the outside where there were relationships to mend and work to be done. Steve stared at the doorway after she left. He closed his eyes. Opened. Closed. Opened. Had it been two hours or two minutes? 

Closed, opened. He thought about yesterday. He closed his hand tightly around his bruised knuckles, until they ached hot and tender and all he could think about or feel was that one sharp point of pain. He returned his mind to blankness. 

Closed, opened. He didn’t think about anything because any thing he thought about would be bad. Closed, opened. Time passed, presumably. 

Closed, opened. The sun started to set, casting the room in shadows, then the inevitable darkness. Steve was still in his clothes from yesterday. He must have gotten up to pee. He couldn’t remember it. He felt more tired now than he had at the start of the morning, and though he knew intellectually that he should be hungry, he couldn’t feel it. 

Closed, opened. He heard two sets of footsteps in the hall, one stomping forward, the other dancing hesitantly. Tony burst into the room with a wave of energy, Jan fluttering anxiously behind him. 

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, it’s time to get up, Steven!” Tony said in a singsong voice. 

“Sorry sorry sorry.” mumbled Jan, not sure if she was apologizing to Steve for Tony’s intrusion, or to Tony for her older cousin’s state. Tony plopped down on the edge of the bed, making the old springs creak and bounce. Steve turned over, putting his back to him. 

“Oh, don’t be that way Steven. You’ve been in bed all day, nap times over.” 

Jan wrung her hands. “Oh no, it’s ok, yesterday was pretty rough, we really should leave him alone Tony, he gets like this sometimes, he’ll be right as rain by tomorrow, right Steve? Right! Now let’s go...” She grabbed Tony’s arm and tried to pull him away. He didn’t budge. 

“Actually, I think I’ll stay. Nice room you got here. Very….homey. Smells like cows.” 

“ _Tony,_ ” hissed Jan, tugging futility on his arm. 

“I’ve got this, alright?” They made eye contact for a few seconds, and Jan huffed. She spun on her heel and left the room. Tony resettled himself on the side of the bed, bouncing it slightly. He sat in silence for a few seconds, absentmindedly rubbing his hand on the sheet, then stopped when he realized he was getting it dirty. He looked at Steve, who was still turned away, ignoring him to the best of his ability. 

“Jan says you get like this sometimes.” 

Steve didn’t respond. Tony forged on anyway. 

“I’m fixing the stove right now. There’s a ring that connects the burner coil to the lower plate. I don’t know what happened to it, but it’s gone. I made a new one, out of a paperclip of all things. It just had to be metal, and that was soft enough for me to bend it into the right shape. It’s working now, will probably work for a couple weeks. Then it’ll break again.” 

Tony stared at the wall, and halfheartedly tried to rub a bit of soot off his palm. “I have a point to this. Or at least I was trying to reach a point. I don’t think it worked. Nothing much seems to work around here.” 

There was a moment of silence, as Tony picked at the sheets and Steve did his best to ignore him. 

“I guess I’m trying to say we’ll fix this.” 

Steve turned over and pushed him off the bed. Tony jumped up from the floor, hands held up. 

“I’m not trying to fix you! You’re right, it’s not my place. But the situation you’re in? It’s not fair, it’s not right. You don’t have to do it alone. Let me help. Team effort, alright? I’m not Clint or Jan, I’m not 15 or 17 or however many years old they are. Come on.” He looked so forlorn, standing in the middle of the floor, earnest and passionate and bright against the yellowing curtains and paint of the room. He really was trying to help. Steve just… couldn’t, right now. 

Tony seemed to recognize that, and slumped over. “It’s okay, Jan told me not to expect much. Told me not to come in here at all, actually. She said you started doing this since the whole thing. Of course, nobody will actually tell me what the whole thing is.” 

“We lost our pack.” 

“I’m sorry. Like you got kicked out? Or they moved?” 

“Why are you here?” 

“To talk you out of your funk.” 

“No, why did you leave your pack?” 

Tony shifted side to side uncomfortably. “Does it matter?” 

At Steve’s look Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was having a bit of a melt down and Obie wanted to shuffle me out of the way before I did something really stupid and hurt the pack." 

Tony's eyes went lonely and distant. "I had an coworker, Yinsen. He was a doctor and after a while, my unofficial keeper. I met him when we were collaborating on a biological weapon design. That’s where Stark Industries made their money, in the weapons business, and I was a head of R&D. After we finished our collaborative project, Obie reassigned him under me, and together we created some of the most deadly weapons the world had ever seen. I kept pushing for bigger, faster, more powerful. Yinsen didn’t like it. He was always a pacifist at heart. He threatened to quit, so Obie moved him back to the medical division, put him to work on the wolf suppressants. 

Less than a month later, he was dead. 

Someone had shifted, gone feral, and ripped his throat out during a drug test trial. I had talked to him just that morning. The last thing I had ever said to him was that he was a sentimental fool for switching divisions. The last thing he ever said to me was not to waste my life. Then two hours later he lost his. 

After his funeral I went home, and reevaluated my entire life. Everything I had ever done could be summed up as building bigger and bigger bombs. And what was the point of that? Why did I spend every waking moment forcing my wolf down, containing the beast inside me so that I wouldn’t hurt anyone, so that I could turn around and kill hundreds with my weapons? The wolf wasn’t the monster, I was. 

I stopped making bombs, quit the company, sold all of my fancy cars, and modern art and aged whiskey and everything else of value, and gave all the money to charity. Of course, Obie wasn’t happy with my 'new direction'. I’m twenty one, he was supposed to start transferring control of the company and the pack to me this year. Now I was running around like a hippie, refusing to let a weapon’s company make weapons? He couldn’t have that. So he pawned me off to you, and I had no real reason to say no. The whole pack depends on the company to make a living, threatening to shut down weapons production drove my few friends away. If I tried the board would lock me out. But I refused to help design anymore, so this was a good way to remove me from the inheritance while also building relationships with other packs. Looks much better on paper than “The second Tony stopped being useful we decided to kick him out.” 

Steve tried to put his hand on Tony’s shoulder and Tony moved away, rejecting the offer of comfort with a bitter twist of his lips. He glared Steve down and finished his story with a sharp note in his voice. 

“And now I’m here, and it’s surprisingly nice, when you’re not moping. So now it’s your turn. Tell me what happened to your pack.” 

“We lost them.” 

“I’m going to need more than that.” The challenge was clear. Tit for tat, sob story for sob story. Nothing short of that would do. Tony was always challenging him. Challenging him over his attitude, over the way he ran his pack, and now over his way of dealing with the past. Staring at the floor covered in dirty clothes, out the window with the broken latch, to the ranch that was about to go under, Steve realized that that was maybe that was he needed. 

Decision made, he started at the beginning. “A little less than a year ago, we had twenty in our pack, including Clint’s and Jan’s parents, all the aunts and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, and my Ma and my older brother Bucky. We weren’t great off, the pack had been shrinking and sinking further into debt for years. But we were happy. We were a family. We watched our cows and ran free on the full moon and didn’t bother anybody. One day, couple months short of a year ago, me, Jan, and Clint finished our chores and decided to go mess around down near the old saw mill. It’s been deserted for years, so it’s a nice place to go when you want to cause a ruckus without getting your ears boxed. We told Ma where we were going, and we left for the afternoon, leaving Bucky behind because he was sick. Ma knew better than to trust his promises that he would stay out of the river, and he was sick enough he couldn’t argue his way out from under her eye. We spent the day at the mill, I don’t even remember what we did. It was just nice to get away from everybody always hovering over us. Then we came home a few hours later, and we never had to worry about that again. 

I was the first one in the front door, and I went right back out again to make sure Jan and Clint wouldn’t see. I threw up, then we ran to the next house over, called the cops. The attackers were long gone by the time they got there, if they hadn’t already been by time we came home. The police ruled that it was wild animals of course, and it’s not like we could correct them. But it was murder. While we were playing, another pack came, and they killed everyone. Most the bodies were all torn up. The rest were plain gone. 

Everything fell apart. I had to sell most of the cows, because we didn’t have enough people to take care of them and we needed to get money for the funeral somewhere. We did everyone all at once, 17 coffins all lined up. Closed of course, since some were empty and the ones that weren’t…. well. They filled the front of the church, then ran all the way down the sides. There was us, and a decent number of people from town. Hard to grow up in a small town like this and not make friends. We had enough casserole by the end of it to feed us for a good month, which was helpful since none of us can cook anything beyond canned pasta. 

The first few weeks were terrible. People looked at us with pity in their eyes, always whispering behind our backs. Child services was sniffing around for a bit, but I’m old enough that they let it fly. We were afraid to shift on the moon, people were constantly stalking through the woods with their rifles looking for the animals who did it, before the monsters attacked their homes. Even a couple of out-of-towners came in, some sort of biology team. They wanted to relocate the animals, or maybe study them. Getting into a locked house to kill more than a dozen people is apparently ‘scientifically interesting’ behavior. A couple reporters interviewed us too. Some for the town paper, a couple nut jobs who thought it was Bigfoot. Only guy who guessed it really was werewolves sent me a letter wanting to create a team like we were superheroes or something. I didn’t respond to any of the crazies, no point in encouraging them, and eventually the messages tapered off. 

And then everything quieted down, and somehow it was worse. It had only been a few weeks, and everyone just moved on, like we hadn’t just lost everything. And then a few months later, Jan and Clint moved on too. And… sometimes I hate them for that. Sometimes I just want to shake them and scream, 'How can you forget them??? How can you just let them go? Did they mean nothing to you??? They were our family and they loved us and we loved them and now they’re gone and they’re never coming back and they didn’t die in peace they died in writhing agony and I had to see my own mother ripped inside out lying in the entryway and every time I walk in that godforsaken front door that’s all I expect to see!” Steve sobbed. Tony pulled him into a hug and he cried into his shoulder, the words pouring out in an unstoppable wave of grief. “-and we don’t know who did this and even if we did there is nothing we can do but wait from them to come back and finish the job, because this is my home and we have nowhere else to go. And I am burning up with hate, for the people who did this to us, but since they’re not here is just spills out and covers everything near me until everything is red and harsh and rough and I snap and lash out until there’s nothing left to break. When I’m not angry I’m sick to my stomach with jealousy, because I see Jan and Clint smiling and laughing and I can’t, because I’m eating off a plate that my aunt broke and glued back together, resting on a table with Bucky’s name carved into the bottom, thinking that Ma would have loved that joke, and every time I open my mouth to laugh I just drown in the ghosts of the people who should be here laughing with me. I’m stuck here, weighed down by a fucking albatross of a past no one else seems to care about, and I can’t move on, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I don’t know if I want to fix it, because fixing it would mean letting go and I just can’t. 

So now I’m here, drowning and burning in turn, until whoever has it out for us comes back to end it once and for all. I’m sorry I dragged you into this, but we needed the money and we needed the protection of your pack and we needed help on the farm. We needed help just in general. I need help.” 

He pulled Tony close, burying his head in his shoulder as Tony rubbed his back whispering sympathies. What felt like months of built up tears poured out, until Steve was left shaky and sniffling. Tony held him the whole time, strong and stable, the ray of light leading him out of his tumultuous storm of feelings. 

“I’ll help you, I promise." Tony assured him. "We’ll save the ranch. But you need to work with me. We can do this. We will do this. Help me start.” Steve sighed into Tony’s shirt. There had been a weird relief in giving up. If he got out of bed, he would have to face his problems. The bank, angry cousins, their unknown enemy. Did he want to get up? No. Was he going to? Yes. He had a duty to the pack. Duty always came first. And now he had Tony, promising to stand beside him every step of the way. 

No cloudy thoughts on sunny days. Though technically the sun was set. He pushed himself up anyway. Tony was thrilled. 

“Yes! Great! Here we go! So I have an idea to get the money.” 

Steve rubbed his face. Stood up, and started picking up the clothes around his room. 

“That’s nice, Tony. That’s…..nice. Just give me a minute. That’s a big task, and I need to work my way up to it.” 

He had been wearing dirty clothes for over three weeks and he was sick of it. He shoved the clothes in a basket, walked downstairs to the basement and tossed them in the washing machine with a cup of soap. The machine made a horrible grinding noise as he turned it on, and the wheel inside didn’t spin. Steve opened the door, and manually gave it a push. The motor caught, and the laundry started turning. He shut the lid, his arm now soaked. Tony was standing behind him. 

“You good now?” 

“Working on it.” 

He brushed past him and went to the kitchen. He opened a can of ravioli, and started eating it cold from the can with a spoon. He really hated ravioli. He finished the can while Tony watched him, leaning on the doorway. 

“I fixed the stove. You didn’t have to eat that cold.” 

Steve shrugged. He walk back to the laundry room, where the machine had stopped again, making a angry grinding noise. He pulled his clothes out, and rinsed them in the sink. He wrung them out the best he could, put them back in the basket, and went outside and hung them up on the line. He went back inside to his room. Tony had stopped following him around, thankfully. He eyed his bed with longing, but got into the shower instead. He got out, and put the same clothes on. Give it up for day three. Maybe four. Five? He didn’t care at this point. Everything else was wet. He left his room, and went back to the kitchen. He sat down in a chair and waited. Like he had suspected, that was just what Tony had been waiting for. He crept into the room as casually as possible, and sat in the chair next to him. Steve noted he was wearing a new shirt, since he had soaked the other one. He was too emotionally drained to feel embarrassed. He nodded his head, permission to go. Tony gave him a small grin. 

“Ok, so used to be the hotshot for the weapons development team at Stark Industries. I’m not going to make missiles anymore. That’s a big no. But, I still have my Master's degree, right? I know how to design fins and thrusters for missiles, I could do it for civilian aircraft or space shuttles no problem. But there's no way I could make 15 grand in three weeks consulting. So, I make a new design, pick a company, and sell the rights. I’ve done it before, or at least I’ve built something and legal helped patent it for me. I could do it again, and BAM! Fifteen grand, in the bank. Then I get a job consulting, and hopefully between me and your cows that will be enough to keep the ranch afloat.” Steve stared at him. “You can just….make a patent? In like three weeks? And sell it for thousands of dollars?” He squinted at him doubtfully. 

Tony scoffed. “Not a full patent, those take forever to get approved. But the preliminary rights, yeah. I can do this, I know I can do this,” he pleaded. Steve stood up. He was starting to get excited. He felt hope blossom in his chest. 

“Seriously? It’s that simple? Can you do it right now?” 

“Ah,” Tony said with a wince. Steve sat back down. Of course there was a catch. 

“I need two things. First we need to go back to Stark Industries, so I can pick up a flash drive. I kept all my drives with ideas Obie said were too fanciful locked up in my desk drawer. He was always very focused on the weapons, just as bad as my father. Great since he’s the CEO of a weapons company, not great when I was trying to explain how I could probably revolutionize space flight if he would just listen. I also need a copy of the modeling software, which should be on one of the drives in there too.” 

“We can do that.” 

“And secondly, I need a computer.” 

“You don’t have a computer?” 

“I sold mine along with everything else of value when I was having my meltdown over Yinsen, and the ones at Stark Industries are owned by the company, I can’t just take one. We need to buy a computer. And not a laptop, I need a full computer with a keyboard, mouse, and halfway decent processing power to run the modeling software.” 

“Could you use the ones at the library in town?” 

“I haven’t seen them, but it’s doubtful. Public computers are usually old and won’t let patrons download their own software, just as a way to avoid viruses. Plus It’s a 45 minute drive out there, gas money would add up fast and you guys need the truck for other things. We need to buy a real computer. Think of it as an investment. 700 bucks now, for 15 grand later.” 

Steve thunked his head on the table. “Where are we going to get $700? If we could pony up that kind of money, we wouldn't be so far in debt.” he complained. Tony leaned forward and grabbed his hand. 

“No, no! I have a plan for that too. When we go to Stark Industries, I’ll ask Obie for my wedding ring. It's tradition in my pack to pass down rings, so my Grandpa's ring has been put aside for me. I wasn’t supposed to have it until we’re married, but I’ll say I want it as a proof of our engagement or something. Then we go to the pawn store in town, and sell it. We can buy it back after we pay off the bank, a few days before the wedding, go get milkshakes, and celebrate our complete and total success. It’s perfect!” 

“It’s risky,” Steve said doubtfully. “You’re betting a lot.” 

“I’m betting my past to save our future. Let me do this. I know I can.” 

Tony looked at him, his eyes wide and so very earnest. Well, shit, Steve thought. With those Bambi eyes, Tony could probably talk him into jumping of a cliff. And at this point, what did they have to lose? His hand was still resting on top of his. He turned his hand over, and laced their fingers together. Tony looked at him with such hope and gratitude. Gratitude, like he was thankful that Steve would even listen to him, after Tony listened through his whole sob story, complete with waterworks. That he trusted him. His hand was smaller and warm against his, his fingers and palm slightly rough with callouses. They were covered in the soot and oil that Tony seemed to unconsciously attract. He rubbed his thumb against his hand. That didn’t work, now they both had soot on their hands. Tony had soot all the way up his arm to the elbow, and a screwdriver tucked absentmindedly behind his ear, behind a lock of hair. His hair looked soft, and he wanted to brush it out of from Tony's bright eyes. Beautiful brown eyes like hot chocolate after the cold of working outside all day, warming you sweetly from the inside out. Brown like the first cup of coffee in the morning, reduced down with fresh milk, when the world was quiet and peaceful and there was a whole day to look forward to. Brown like a forbidden sip of whiskey, sharp and sweeter because it was stolen. It was too dark in the kitchen to see the flecks of gold that he knew were there, and he leaned forward a little to see better, and Tony was leaning forward too, and suddenly they were kissing. Steve let out a soft “oh,” of surprise, and Tony pulled back, his eyes fluttering open with concern. Steve brought a hand up to cradle Tony’s face, his other hand still holding his. Tony leaned back in with more confidence, and kissed him again. After a day of cold lethargy, he felt like he was on fire, that now that Tony was here, anything was possible. They’d deal with problems as they came, and they were going to do this whole crazy thing. Day or night, no cloudy thoughts on sunny days. Steve broke their kiss just long enough to whisper soft against his lips, 

“Alright Sunshine, I believe you can too. Let’s do it.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony in order to save the ranch. It turns out they're still short on cash, so Tony comes up with a plan. Tony and Steve have a heart to heart about their pasts.  
> In this chapter, they go to the pawn shop and the store.

It was too late to go that night, and the next day they had to wait until all the cows had been milked, and the milk and eggs had been dropped off in town. It was huge pain living in the middle of nowhere, since it was a 45 minute ride to town, then a 45 minute ride back to the ranch, then Stark Industries was a hour long drive the opposite direction.  Steve ended up going to town alone to drop off the stuff at the supermarket and houses, then the whole pack piled in to go to Stark Industries. Jan and Clint were still pissed at Steve, and two people had to sit in the back which was uncomfortable and made the ride feel longer. Jan won rock paper scissors, and used her time up front to glare at Steve for the full hour. By the end of the ride he was gritting his teeth and the tension was getting unbearable. Steve pulled the truck into a spot in front of Stark Industries, and turned off the engine. Tony hopped out of the back, and trotted to the front door. He swiped a card, and disappeared inside, leaving Steve alone with his pack mates. He got out of the car and turned to them with a sigh. They had got out of the truck and were standing next to each other, arms crossed. Sometimes it was very obvious the two of them were siblings. Steve brushed a hand through his hair. The responsible leader side of him was saying to apologize, and the angry twenty one year old werewolf was saying Clint needed to not be such a wimp and that he was still mad about the math mistake and they should duke it out as wolves. Responsible adult Steve was needed here, unfortunately. 

“Look, Clint, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put calculating everything on you, that wasn’t fair. We should have all worked on it, and triple checked the answers. But it’s too late to change anything, and I’m not going to blame you for your mistake anymore. And I’m sorry I tried to hit you. I let my temper get the best of me, and that was unacceptable as your pack leader. I promise I’ll be more fair in the future.”

They both stared at him in shock, then looked at each other, and back at him. Jan squealed. “Wow! I’m so proud of you! That was like a real adult thing to say! Good job!”

Clint just seemed confused. “Um. I don’t really know what to say? I thought we were going to fight it out in the parking lot. You know, like every other time we’ve gotten into an argument? I brought tape to wrap our hands if we fight as humans since I sprained a finger last time and Mom got mad.”

“I’m leader of the pack now, it would be abusing my power. I’m trying to be a responsible adult.” Steve said, giving him puppy dog eyes. Clint threw up his hands, affronted.

“It’s weird! I never know when you’re the guy who pushes me in the pond and dyes my shampoo to turn my hair purple and buys thirty cans of ravioli instead of real food, and when your the guy who tells me this sort of shit, and goes to the bank, and, and, and I dunno! Does taxes or something!”

“Oh shit. OH SHIT. I have not been doing taxes! Was I supposed to be doing taxes?” Steve said, starting to panic. Clint glared at him and Jan put her head in her hands.

“YES! You’re the adult!” Clint said, gesturing vaguely.

“Now you want me to be the adult? I have no clue what I’m doing! No one left any directions! Shit! Where do I get taxes from?”

“I don’t know! Jan?”

“Why would I know? We should ask Tony.”

“Why would Tony know?”

“I dunno, he just seems on top of things. More than the three of us, anyway.”

“Ok, this is fine, we’re fine. I’ll just ask Tony. Right. Worry about that later. Do you accept my apology?”

“Um, yeah dude, we’re cool.”

“Great. Cool.”

They stood around the truck awkwardly. Then Steve realized something.

“Wait, I thought you bought the ravioli.”

Clint shook his head. “No way, I have some standards for food.”

“I’ve seen you lick your popsicle off the pavement after you dropped it.”

“No fair, that was when I was like ten! I’ve stopped doing that”

“This was last week.”

Clint didn’t even look embarrassed. More just sad. “Aw, I thought I was being sneaky.”

“Plus you eat the grapes on the floor at the supermarket. And you won’t eat marshmallows unless they’re been dropped in the fire and covered in wood and ash.”

“Those grapes are free, and it gives it flavor, you would understand if you would just try it.”

“You eat doritos with ketchup. I don’t want anything to do with your idea of flavor.”

“Ok, first of all, neither of you have ever tried that one either, and second, having a more adventurous set of standards does not mean I picked for us to eat canned ravioli for a week. If it was up to me, we’d be eating nothing but caramel corn and bananas on frozen pizza.”

“If I didn’t buy it, and you didn’t buy it, then…”

They both turned and looked at Jan. She was blushing.

“I really like Chef Boyardee, okay?”

Steve snorted into his hand and Clint let out a wail. “Janet! You were supposed to be the responsible one!”

“I’m the responsible one!” Steve said, affronted. Clint waved a hand at him.

“Shut up Steve, you haven't done your laundry in like a month and you don’t even know how to do taxes.”

“I did it yesterday. And no one knows how to do taxes.”

“Tony knows how to do taxes! C’mon Jan, you were supposed to be the one who saved us from scurvy. I’m too young to lose my teeth. Quick, someone get me an orange.”

“We can buy some real food when we go back town.” Steve sighed. Jan muttered under her breath about how ravioli was real food, and Clint tilted his head.

“Why are we going to town? You already dropped off the milk.”

“We didn't get groceries last time we were in town because we went home right after the bank. And Tony and I made a plan last night. We’re going to pawn his wedding ring to buy a computer, and he’s going to make some designs and sell them, hopefully for enough to bail out the farm.”

“Yikes dude, you’re gonna make him pawn his wedding ring? That’s harsh.” Clint said with a wince. Jan nodded.

“Yeah, that’s rough.”

“I’m not making him do anything, he suggested it.” Steve said with a shrug. “I’m not going to doubt him, if he says it’s fine, it’s fine. Tony is impulsive, but he tends to follow through. We ran out of other options a long time ago. This is like the back up to the last ditch effort to plan z at this point.”

“Fair enough. Here he comes. Ask him about the taxes.”

Tony walked out of the building, and over to the truck, giving them a smile.

“Hey Tony, how was-” Steve started, and was interrupted by Clint.

“Do you know how to do taxes, yes or no?”

Steve glared him down. “It’s not too late for me to fight you.”

“No fighting Clint. And nobody knows how to do taxes, they hire a guy or wing it and hope the IRS doesn’t come after them.”

“I’ve never been so disappointed in being validated.” Steve said sadly. 

“It’s not April yet, we can worry about it later. You guys ready to go?”

Steve had no clue what the month had to do with anything, but he got in the truck and started it up. Tony won rock paper scissors and got in beside him while the other two hopped in the back. Steve gave him a glance as they strapped in. “You win rock paper scissors a lot.”

“Jan goes in backwards order and Clint alternates every three rocks with a paper. I only lose so they don’t notice I’ve caught on.” he said with a wink. Steve laughed. He pulled out of the lot and started heading back towards the ranch and the town. Tony looked out the window.

“Where are you going?”

“To town. It’s back the other way.”

“Why not just stay in the city? There’s a pawn shop and grocery store here too.”

“What?”

“Yeah? You thought all these people drove an hour and forty minutes out to Evergreen every time they needed their Chef Boyardee fix?”

“I never thought about it. I’ve only ever been to the one grocery store.”

“Well then, you’re in for a treat! Pawn store first though. Take the next left, here, wait no, not yet, ok here!”

Steve parked the truck in front of a shabby building. They got out and walked inside. Clint and Jan picked around the shop, while Steve followed Tony up to the front. A portly man sat behind a wooden table, smoking a cigarette and playing solitaire. They got to the front and Tony hesitated. He looked at Steve, then down, then back at him. He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. Tony opened his mouth, then shut it, and fidgeted. Steve grabbed his arm. “Look, if you can’t do this-” 

Tony jerked away from him. “Of course I can do this! There’s nothing I can’t do!” He pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a stunning gold ring. He slammed it onto the counter. 

“How much will you give me for this?”

The man put down his cards, unimpressed with Tony's drama. He looked at the ring. 

“$500. Max.” he said, placing a card down on top of a neat line of cards. Tony scoffed, outraged.

“$500? It’s a 24 karat gold ring. It’s worth a thousand at least!”

“It’s a fake. People don’t sell real gold rings like that at places like this. $500, take it or leave it.”

“It’s real. Can’t you look at it with a lense or something?”

The balding man shook his head. “Look dude, I sell second hand baseball bats and used clothes. If I could tell reals from fakes, I sure as hell wouldn’t be working here. If it’s really 24 karat, you can go to an auctioneer or a professional jeweler and get its fair price.”

“That would take too long. We need $700 at least, and we need it today.”

“Then you’re out of luck. I’m not dropping that much on what’s probably a fake.”

“We need more than that.”

“Then you’ll have to sell more.”

Tony looked at Steve in desperation, and pulled him aside. 

“What the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t know!”

“Is there a pawn shop in your town?”

“Yeah, but she won’t deal with my family since my aunt swindled her on a fake Sinatra record. Are there other places here?”

“The only other place I know is the one I sold all my stuff to when I was having a meltdown, and Obie is paying him off to report if I go back there again.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Steve took a deep breath and walked back to the counter. He pulled his watch off his wrist and placed it carefully on the counter. “$700, for the ring and the watch?” he asked. The old man picked up the watch, and it looked it over with a critical eye. He nodded, and reached under the counter to pay them $700, in wrinkled twenties. 

Tony was looking at him with large nervous eyes. “Steve, you didn’t have to-” 

He pulled him into a hug. “It’s ok, we’ll be right back here before you know it, it doesn’t matter. I trust you, Sunshine.” 

Tony rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, sure, of course. Do I even want to know the story behind that watch?” 

Steve glanced over Tony’s head at Clint and Jan who were looking at him in shock and horror. “Probably not. But since that was your family ring, I think we’re even. We'll get them back. Now let’s get out of here, you have a computer to buy.” Sure it had been a gift from his Ma and it had originally been his Pa’s, but somehow he couldn’t find a way to regret it. He liked to think they would be proud of his choice. The three of them got into the truck and Steve drove them the short trip to the supermarket. Steve pulled into the parking lot, and Tony hopped out of the truck and helped Jan and Clint out. 

“Whoever is in the back should hide because riding in the back is illegal in the city.” he said, helping Clint to the ground.

“What? That’s dumb. And it smells terrible here and it’s loud. The city sucks.” he complained. Jan and Steve nodded in agreement. Tony rolled his eyes, saying “Yeah, yeah,” and dragged them into the supermarket. 

Unlike their small local store, rows stretched back as far as the eye could see, filled with more food than they had ever imagined in a rainbow of colors. 

“I love the city.” Clint said in awe. Jan and Steve nodded in stunned agreement. Tony laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on. I'll be down the street at the office store getting the computer, I'll meet you guys back here in half an hour. Have fun!” He said, leaving with a cheery wave.

They turned back to the overstuffed aisles. They looked at each other and grinned. This was going to be fun.

An hour later the three of them walked out of the store holding bags of goodies to find Tony leaning against the truck, computer safely stowed in the foot-well of the passenger side. Clint and Jan put the bags in the back, as Steve approached Tony with his hands behind his back. He looked at him curiously, and Steve gave him a mischievous grin.

“Close your eyes.” he told him. Tony shook his head, giving him a mistrustful look. Steve laughed. “Come on, I swear it’s not anything bad. And hold your hand out too.”

“If it ends up being a bug, I just want you to know that it’s ending up right back on you.” he said, tentatively holding out his hand, calloused palm facing towards the cloudless sky. Steve gently took his hand and turned it over. He slid a ring on the offered finger finger. Tony opened his eyes and let out a snort as he saw it was a ring pop. Steve gave him a sheepish smile.

“Since you had to pawn your ring and all, I thought I would get you a new one.” 

Jan shook her head at him in second hand embarrassment while Clint hid a laugh behind his hand. Tony held out his hand, tilting it this way and that to make it sparkle. He looked up at Steve with an easy grin.

“You know what, I think I like this one better. It’s bigger, it’s my favorite color, and” Tony paused to give it a lick. “Tastes like cherry.”

“Only the best for you, Honey.” he said in a sing song voice. Tony gave him an exaggerated bat of his eyelashes and with a sweeping motion put his hand to his heart.

“Thank you so very much, Snookums. I’ll treasure it forever. Or, maybe the next fifteen minutes. Whichever comes first.”

Clint nudged Jan.

“Remember when we used to think Tony was cool? I remember those days. They were great, we didn’t have to put up with another dork.”

Jan nodded solemnly. “We’ve got two now, what in the world are we supposed to do with two? We barely had any use for the one! Let’s leave one of them here, with a sign saying ‘To a good home.’”

Tony waved them off. “Yeah, yeah, you’re both intimidated by my stunning personality and excellent taste in jewelry. Let’s go before I have to smack someone.”

The piled back into the car and started the drive home. Out of the corner of his eye Steve watched Tony spin the ring around his finger, and tried to imagine what it’d be like with the real thing. Between all the nonsense with the bank, it was easy to forget that they were getting honest to god married in a little over a month. The thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have. The Stark pack was handling all the details. Steve would show up, say ‘I do’, give Tony a ring and a kiss and go home. The ring part would be tricky, seeing as they had pawned it and all. They’d get it back. Probably. The kiss would be easy at least. Steve already spent a decent amount of time wishing he could kiss Tony. Like right now for example. The cherry candy had dyed his lips red and he was licking them in a way that wasn’t meant to be seductive but it was really working for Steve. 

'Eyes on the road, Rogers,' he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm trying a new way of getting formatting so let me now if anything looks weird.  
> Also I have no idea how much rings or watches would be worth at a pawnshop. I got the price of the computer right, but when I tried to look up rings, it was all over the place, and watches were just as bad. I tried my best. If I'm off, please assume the guy was either really generous, or swindling them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve needs to save his ranch from the bank so he agrees to marry Tony. Tony's dowry ends up falling short, so they pawn Tony's family ring and Steve's family watch to buy Tony a computer so he can try to earn the money before the bank comes for their home at the end of the month.  
> In this chapter, werewolves! Lots of werewolves!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Tony shifts and it isn't pretty but it's fast and he is unharmed at the end of it.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> And an extra special thanks for everyone who has left me a comment or kudos! You guys are too sweet.  
> 

### 

Over the next week Tony got the computer set up, and started working to develop his designs. He would sit at the table all day, and at nights when it was too dark to work on the ranch anymore, Steve would join him, sketching with his sweet sweet stolen bank pens. 

Tony ran simulation after simulation, tracking minute angles and power couplets, streamlining the rocket and its engines until they reached unprecedented heights. Steve didn’t understand a word of the alphabet soup of math that flashed across the screen, so instead he watched Tony’s face. He watched his eyes light up when he made progress, and his nose crinkle when things didn’t pan out. Most of the time he wore an impatient frown, his displeasure at the laws of physics not bending to his whims written clearly across the lines drawn between his brows. When he rubbed angrily at his forehead, that was when Steve knew it had been a day of constant frustrations, and was time to intervene. 

Sometimes that meant taking a break to enjoy one of the popsicles they had bought on their supermarket trip, eating them outside on the porch as crickets chirped a peaceful melody, their conversations loose and meandering as the cows that grazed their fields. Sometimes it meant Steve would turn his drawing pad around, and they would play hangman, arguing over if ‘y’all’ was really a word, because honestly Tony, if you got to do antidisestablishmentarianism, he should be able to do freaking ‘y’all’. 

The next word Tony picked was four letters. The first letter was ‘F’. They decided to take a break from hangman. 

With the approach of the full moon, they had other things on their mind anyway. Though they could shift anytime, the desire to do so around the full moon was overwhelming. 

Thy always went hunting as a pack, and on the morning of of the full moon, Steve pulled Tony aside to explain the tradition. Tony nodded and agreed to run with them. 

“Are you going to be ok with shifting?” Steve asked. Since their little spar, Tony hadn’t left human form, and Steve felt like that shift had been more of a fear response than a purposeful choice. 

“I’ll be fine.” Tony said, uncomfortable with the topic. 

“It looked painful last time.” Steve continued, his concerns not assured. He never wanted to hear those horrible noises Tony had been making again. Better for them to talk it through now, awkward as it was, then have Tony get stuck halfway and leave Steve having no idea what to do later. “Is there any way I could help?” 

Tony shook his head. “I should be fine. Last time I still had the suppressants in my system, and I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Now I know what it feels like at least, so it should go better.” 

“That’s the problem, it shouldn’t feel like that.” 

“Nothing much I can do about it, can I?” Tony responded, matter of fact. 

Steve frowned. Tony needed to shift. Now off the drugs, he was giving off all the signs, his nails and teeth unconsciously sharpening when he was upset, being more restless, more impatient. 

On the other hand, the thought of watching Toy writhe on the ground like that while Steve stood by helpless was unbearable. It had been painful to watch as antagonists, now that Tony was _Tony_ , it was a whole new ball game. 

Then a new thought struck Steve. “Wait, was that your first time shifting?” 

Tony held up his hand and tilted it side to side. “Sorta? I got one shift in when I was little, and after that they started me on the shots. That was my first shift as an adult. My pack always believed that you couldn’t control your wolf, and most werewolf myths supported that theory. I never tested it, when the consequences were attacking your friends and the possibility of being put down by a cop or ranger. 

Then I came here and you shifted into a wolf like it was nothing, and cornered me in the basement. I thought you were going to eat me, and I wasn’t going out without a fight, so I gave in and let the shift happen. It hurt, and it was weird, but I could still think, I was still me. And I realized you were still you, and it wasn’t a fight to the death anymore, and it was pretty fun being a wolf. 

So now I know rationally that nothing bad will happen when I shift, but I still have all these voices in the back of my head screaming, “Danger!”, “Monster!”, “Unnatural!” 

Steve let out a sad sound. “Oh, Tony.” He made sure Tony was looking into his eyes, so he could convey his complete sincerity. “You are your wolf and your wolf is you. There is nothing to be afraid of, nothing to try to hide away.” 

Steve grabbed Tony’s hand and led him upstairs to his room. “C’mon, we’re going to practice.” He pushed Tony to the center of the room and sat down on his bed. “Close your eyes, and try to find your wolf.” 

“I don’t know what it feels like,” Tony confessed, dutifully closing his eyes. 

Steve thought for a second. “Alright, focus on your senses. What do you hear?” 

Tony tilted his head. “I can hear a bird outside. Jan or Clint walked in the back door downstairs. That’s it.” 

“That’s human hearing. Your wolf can do more. Concentrate.” 

Tony’s nose crinkled as he focused. “I can hear you. I can hear you breathing, I can hear your heart.” 

“Good. Now what can you feel?” 

“The floor? My clothes?” 

“Right. Now take your clothes off.” 

“What?” Tony said in shock, his eyes flying open. Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“What? You’re going to rip or stretch them if you try to shift fully dressed. Take ‘em off.” 

Tony conceded the point and pulled off his shirt and pants. Steve turned to face the wall so Tony could pull off his underwear. He might be half wolf but he was a full gentleman. 

Still facing the wall, Steve continued his instructions. “Ok, now focus on your sense of smell. What can you figure out about my room?” 

“You never wash anything, ever? This room smells more like cow than the barn.” 

“You should smell Clint’s room. What else?” 

“I can smell someone cooking downstairs. Must have been Jan who came in, because it doesn’t smell burnt.” Tony paused and Steve had to bite back a grin as he heard Tony make a cute little sniffling noise. “Anything else?” 

“I can smell myself. Cinnamon maybe? I can smell you. You smell like hay and cows and apples. Why do you smell like apples?” 

“That’s my scent. You’ll be able to use it to track me when we’re running around tonight. Jan smells like honey and Clint smells like wood and flint. Now focus on how it felt to extend your senses, and keep stretching. That’s shifting feels like to me, like a good relaxing stretch.” 

Steve looked at the wall patiently as he heard Tony mumbling to himself behind him. Tony let out a groan and dropped to the ground with a thump. Steve turned around and saw him start to shift. Tony’s bones snapped alarmingly as he reformed on four legs, his spine twisting itself out like a rope making sharp pops. His hands bled as claws erupted from his fingertips, the fingers looking like they were shrinking back from the bone as they morphed into paws. Slowed down to this rate, the process became grotesque, though it still went faster than the first time. It took less than five minutes this time for Tony to switch into a small dark brown wolf, the fur lightening towards his stomach and darkening towards his legs. His eyes were the same brown as when he was human, the only indicator that he wasn’t a normal wolf. 

Tony sauntered over to the bed and laid his head in Steve’s lap. He looked up with puppy eyes and Steve snorted. He gave his head a pet and Tony closed his eyes in bliss. His fur was more wiry than soft. 

“Very well done. You want to try shifting back?” 

Tony nodded. 

“Your human form is going to have better sight and better feeling, especially in the hands. Focus on that. What do you see?” 

Tony looked up at him and the fur receded and paws shifted to hands. The shift flowed fast and easy, like a ribbon unspooling in gentle waves. Less than a minute later Tony was fully human again, kneeling between Steve’s legs. Steve ruffled his hair, soft as feathers now, and Tony grinned up at him. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.” 

“I’d say so. You feeling up for changing again tonight?” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

Tony never could resist a challenge, Steve thought to himself warmly. Tony stood up and Steve clapped a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, Tony, you’re still naked.” 

“Right, sorry.” There was a rustle of clothes and footsteps. “I’m going back down to work on the oven. I’ll see you at dinner, it should be done by then.” 

“See you at dinner,” Steve agreed. He didn’t take his hand off his eyes until he was sure Tony was gone. He felt himself blushing red. Looking back, he had dragged Tony to his bedroom and told him to take off his clothes. He was lucky he didn’t get slapped. 

But now he knew Tony would be able to shift, and in a less than a day they would get to have their first run since Tony joined. Steve couldn’t wait. 

. 

### 

. 

Clint paused from tossing hay bales to look over at his cousin. Steve threw the bale from the truck with unnecessary force, and one of the strings snapped, sending hay skittering across the dirt in a yellow wave of stalks. 

“You ok there, Stevie?” 

“Just peachy. Absolutely great.” 

“Yeah, I can really see that.” 

Steve grabbed some twine and started to rope the bale back together. He tried to act casual. “You would say Tony likes me right? And we did pawn his ring, so he’s pretty invested in our ranch, right?” 

Clint leaned against his pitchfork and squinted at his older cousin. “Where are you going with this?” 

Steve kept his eyes on the twine he was fiddling with. “Tony’s fixing the oven right now.” 

“So?” 

“There’s nothing else broke. He fixed all the appliances.” 

“Oh. OH SHIT!” Clint yelled, with wide eyes. 

“I know! But I mean, it’ not like he’s going to leave because of that, right? Like, he likes it here. Probably. Wasn’t just sticking around because he likes fixin' things.” 

Clint grabbed him by the shoulders. “You need to go wreck our washing machine, right now.” 

“What? Are you serious? You were supposed to tell me I’m being ridiculous!” Steve yelled, panicked. His cousin shook his head, resigned. 

“Look man, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and it’s adorably sappy. But compared to the way he looks at a broken stove? You have no chance. Now, take this hammer, and go fuck up our washing machine before someone lures him away with a faulty toaster.” 

. 

. 

Jan was sharpening her pocket knife on the porch when she heard a loud banging from inside. Curious, she went inside to investigate. She found Steve smashing at the washing machine with a hammer. 

Jan considered the situation for a moment, then spoke. “You know Tony’s not going to leave after he runs out of things to fix.” 

Steve whipped around with a guilty expression, hiding the hammer behind his back. “Of course not. That would be stupid. I’m just…ah…” 

Jan shook her head with a sigh. “He likes it here. He likes us. Next time your abandonment issues flare up, please just go talk to him instead of ruining our poor washing machine.” 

He scowled at her. “I don’t have abandonment issues. And it was Clint’s idea, maybe you should go talk to him.” 

“Never listen to Clint, he’s worse than you. Now give me the hammer.” She held out her hand expectantly. Steve clutched the hammer to his chest, then relented, placing it in her hand. She gave him an encouraging smile and shooed him out the door, where he immediately ran into Tony. 

“Hey guys, what was that banging?” 

Steve looked at Tony, then back at Jan who was holding the hammer. He let out a wild laugh. “Yes Jan, what are you doing with that hammer? And- oh my! Whatever has happened to our poor washing machine?” He said, projecting pure innocence. 

She gave him a death glare. “Steven Grant Rogers, I will kill you with this hammer, just watch me.” 

Tony stepped forward, hands raised non threateningly. “No murdering until I fix the washer so we can get the blood out of the clothes. Come on Jan, it’s only fair that you help me, since you were the one to break it. And maybe we could have a talk? I’m not some repairman you hired, I’m not leaving once I fix all of your old appliances.” 

Steve pulled Tony close and whispered loud enough for Jan’s werewolf hearing to pick it up. “She’s got abandonment issues, it’s sad. Good luck Tony.” 

Jan charged forward with the hammer and Steve ran out of the room laughing. Tony shook his head. 

. 

### 

. 

They all met up for dinner at five, and anticipation hung heavy in the air. Everyone rushed through their food and as a group they exited out through the porch, and walked into the thickening trees behind the house. Since the big hunts a year ago for the rabid wolf pack, they had to be absolutely certain that no one was around before they could even consider shifting. As pack leader, it was Steve’s job to make sure everyone was safe, and if that meant he had to be the annoying adult who sent everyone home early, he was willing to do it, and had done it before, much to Clint and Jan’s complaint. 

Tonight the chances of a wolf run seemed good. The forest was quiet except for the chirping of crickets, and the air was clean of the scent of any humans. He nodded to his pack. They were clear to go. They all started their shift, Clint as always trying to rip through it as fast as possible, sandy blond fur exploding out before he had his shirt fully off. Jan took her time, folding her things neatly before shifting into her sleek brown form like an otter into water, her black nose twitching. Steve dumped his clothes on the ground. They were going to need washing anyway after being in the dirt, who cared if they got wrinkled. He always got everything off though, because at a towering 4 feet at the shoulder in his wolf form, anything he didn’t get off would be completely shredded. He rushed his way through tonight, because he was excited to show off. One thing he had always had over Bucky was a better wolf form. Taller and faster with a thick white coat, he was the swan that it looked like Bucky’s ugly duckling wolf should grow into. He felt the clear moonlight on his fur, and he shook himself to straighten it and flatten it out. Then he turned to see Tony’s reaction. 

“Much fluffier than I remember.” He said with a grin, ruffling Steve’s ears. Steve put his ears back. He wasn’t fluffy! He was large and scary and fierce! 

Tony pet his head. “It’s like touching a fancy rug! Oh my god!” 

Steve whined at him. Really? A rug? 

“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “You’re just so cute!” 

Cute! How dare- oh wait. Actually he would take cute. Cute was good, right? He would have preferred magnificent, but he’d take cute. 

Tony started pulling off his clothes off and Steve waited to see how he would do. He shouldn’t have worried. After a short pause Tony’s fur started to grow in in waves, his bones and joints reforming with only a single painful sounding pop. In less than a minute Tony hopped up with a happy yip. Steve returned the happy yip, congratulating him as well as he could with no way to speak. Steve trotted over and gave him a greeting sniff and recoiled. The scent of metal and soot was a lot stronger with his wolf nose, and Tony had spent most of the afternoon trying to fix the oven, then the washing machine. Tony gave his paw a sheepish lick, then made a face of disgust and gave up. He rolled around in the dirt to cover up the smell, leaving himself dusty and with a leaf perched comically on the top of his head. Steve shook his head at him in fond exasperation, and trotted off deeper into the woods. His pack followed loyally behind him, as he searched the air for the scent of something to hunt. 

His keen nose caught a wiff of badger and they were off, their feet padding across the forest floor like a whisper, as fast and as silent as the owl circling above. Steve quickly outpaced the others. A bad hunting strategy, but he didn’t care about successfully catching anything tonight, he just wanted to feel the wind in his face and the leaves under his feet, and to forget all of the stresses of the ranch and to be free. 

He followed the scent of the badger, smelling as it waddled along, as it had a standoff with a snake, as it continued on down into its den. Disappointing, but to be expected. Clint and Jan bounded up, and quickly assessed the situation. Clint nosed at the entrance of the den with a whine, and started digging between tree roots. Tony caught up last, and eased to a stop beside him, panting loudly. Not too bad, Steve thought to himself. It was unlikely that Tony had ever run this far this fast before as a human, certainly never as a wolf, so he didn’t judge. He would be fun whipping him into shape, starting tonight. He gave his side a gentle nip, and took off, running between the trees then turning to see if he was going to play along. Instead Tony collapsed to the ground, sticking his legs in the air, metaphorically telling him that he was down for the count. And that wouldn’t do at all. He ran back and gave him another playful nip, dodging his paw as he swiped at him. He danced back and forth around him until the brown wolf suddenly rolled to his feet and got a mouthful of white fur. Then Tony was the one darting off, weaving between the trees like his life depended on it. Steve let out a happy howl and the chase was on. He let Tony get ahead, not wanting to use his knowledge of the woods and superior stamina to end the game too quickly. But after a few minutes when he still hadn’t caught up, he became confused and put on the speed. He broke into a clearing and stopped. No Tony. He put his nose to the ground and retraced his steps. He caught the scent of cinnamon and metal and followed it as it made a sharp turn, then ended. He looked up, confused. He tried again and it still ended in the same spot. He let out a worried howl. 

There was a rustle behind him and he whipped around. Tony popped out of a bush and tackled him. They both rolled around in the dirt, yipping playfully. Tony broke away and was off again, this time he only made it a few yards before Steve was right on his tail. It looked like the smaller wolf still had a few tricks up his sleeve despite his inexperience. Though Tony couldn’t run as fast as him over long distances, he accelerated quicker and used that to his advantage, cutting corners and playing a game of stop and go. It helped to that Steve found himself constantly distracted. The way Tony ran, loose and free like he thought the woods would never end, leaving the slightest metallic tang of scent behind in a twirling ribbon of promise, the moon glinting off silky brown fur turning it silver, he was like a wil ‘o the whisp, a flicker of fur leading Steve to an unknown place deep within the woods. Steve felt his head spinning as he physically spun himself, trying to catch up. His fur smelled slightly of Tony from when he tackled him, further confusing his nose. He felt the breath in his chest like he was breathing for the first time, big heaving gulps, filled with the subtle spice of leaves and under it all the metallic scent of Tony. Steve broke through a bush and slammed into him, and with that the world slammed to a halt too. 

All of the other-worldliness, the moonlight was gone, and it was just normal Tony, all too mortal, warm and solid, panting roughly in the dark, and somehow that felt like the most magical thing of all. He could feel Tony’s heart beating sparrow fast against where he was holding him down, could feel his breath hot against his face. He felt impossibly present, like in this moment nothing else existed except him, and Tony, and whatever surge of electricity was arcing between them. Blue eyes met brown, white fur brushed into sable. Tony seemed to be waiting but Steve had no idea what for. The moment stretched impossibly long, and finally snapped, and Tony was off again, lost to the shadows in the trees, his yipping laugh echoing through the night. 

. 

. 

They spent the next few hours playing in the woods, until Steve called them all in around one. Though he wanted to play more, they still had work to do tomorrow. Clint had managed to dig up the badger, and with Jan’s help they had killed it and now were dragging it home in triumph. It would help stretch their food budget, and be a nice break from canned ravioli. He should have been hunting too, not romping around with Tony, but he couldn’t muster up any regret. It had been a really nice night. It felt like it had been forever since he had just lived, and suddenly everything mundane seemed so incredibly meaningful and beautiful. For this one night, there was nothing more important than the pleased chuffs Clint was making, the slight look of disgust on Jan’s face as she licked her feet clean, the owl above, the leaves below, and Tony, Tony, Tony.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony to use his dowry to save his ranch. Things don't go to plan and they pawn their stuff to buy a computer. Tony must try to use the computer to earn the money, before the bank forecloses on them or the wedding happens while Tony's ring is still at the pawn shop. Despite all the stress, they have a nice day running around as wolves.  
> In this chapter, they get good news then bad news then good news.

### 

Another week passed, and Steve was outside fixing up the fence, for the ten thousandth time. Dottie stood nearby, watching her escape hatch be blocked up yet again with terrible disappointment. Still, it had to be done. He straightened the fence post and began rewrapping the wire. He heard a rustle behind him and assumed it was Dottie so when Tony tackled him he let out a squawk and fell into the fence post, knocking it back over. 

Steve pushed him off. “What was that for? You broke the fence!” 

“Like Dottie doesn’t break it all the time. C’mon, it doesn’t matter! Because! I! Did! It!”” 

Steve stood up, and brushed off his pants with a sigh as Tony jumped around with glee. 

“Did what? Pissed off Clint? Made a piece of toast without burning it? Ruined my fence?” 

Tony shoved him again. He was prepared now, and didn’t move an inch. He smirked down at him and Tony huffed. 

“You’re always such a wet blanket. I finished the design for the rocket thrusters!” He started bouncing up and down and Steve grabbed his arms to hold him in place. Tony danced away, and continued bouncing. Steve gave him a look. 

“Look Sunshine, that’s great, but we can’t get excited too soon, we still need to find a buyer, work out a deal and actually get a check. I don’t want to rain on your parade, I’ve just gotten close and hit a dead end too many times at this point to trust anything beyond a physical check.” 

“Oh, a check like this?” Tony said teasingly. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it in front of Steve’s face. Eyes wide, he grabbed it. Tony grabbed it back and gave it a brisk snap. “It came in the mail this morning. I already made all of the arrangements, I wasn’t going to get your hopes up until I was sure. And, now I’m sure.” 

Steve snatched it again. His eyes immediately locked onto the amount. 

$21,000 was printed, neat as you please, made out to Rogers. 

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered. He looked up at Tony. “Holy shit!” 

“Yeah!” he responded. “I did it!” 

Steve lunged forward and grabbed him in a hug, spinning him around. He placed him back on the ground and without thinking pulled him into a kiss, awkwardly clacking their teeth together. Tony grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him back in, forcing his head sideways so their lips fit together perfectly. Steve relaxed against him, bringing his hands up to rest on Tony’s hips. Steve parted his lips and they were kissing for real, hot and wet. Tony tasted like cinnamon toothpaste, and when he pulled away Steve felt sort of like he had been hit by a bus. Tony gave him a parting peck and a smile like pure sunshine. 

What were they doing again? 

Right, the check. 

He grabbed his hand and dragged Tony towards the barn. He shoved the door open and Clint and Jan looked up guiltily from where they were playing pennies instead of working. 

“Guys! Tony did it! He got the money!” 

The younger two stood up with a cheer. They rushed over to pat him on the back, and yap excitedly at Steve. He shooed them away with a laugh. “Watch the cows! Don’t let Dottie get out!” He grabbed Tony’s arm. “Let’s go, let’s go! Before a meteor crushes the truck or the check spontaneously combusts or something!” 

He ran to the truck and jumped in with Tony right behind him, still laughing joyfully. He turned the key. The engine rumbled and died. Steve whispered “I knew it. I knew something was going to go wrong.” Tony rolled his eyes and reached across him and turned the key again. The truck rumbled to a start. Steve looked at him sheepishly, and Tony smirked. He put the truck into drive, and they were soon off to town. 

The whole way, Steve stayed carefully within the speed limits, and they went straight to the bank. They walked up to the front door, and neither was embarrassed as they tracked dirt from the field onto the bank’s previously pristine floors. Steve was taking a gleeful satisfaction from it, stomping his feet unnecessarily hard to dislodge extra mud. He went to the receptionist and asked if Stern was in. She said he was and motioned them back with a wave. Tony followed him a step behind, his bold stride boosting Steve’s own confidence. They were really going to do this. After years of debt, months of work, it was almost over. 

They reached the door, and Steve handed Tony the check back. “You should be the one to give it to the bank, you’re the one who earned it.” 

Tony shrugged, shy at how proud and earnest Steve was. “Ah, it’s your farm. And you deserve some credit anyway, for keeping me from going crazy.” 

Steve gently took his wrist and pressed the thin paper into his hand. “It’s your ranch too, and I don’t think I could stop your crazy if I wanted to. Let’s do this.” 

Tony gave him a wild grin, and pushed open the door, motioning for Steve to step inside the lion's den. Inside the office, Stern looked up from his paperwork and put his pen down with a frown. He ignored Tony to say, “Mr. Rogers, if this is about extending your loan deadlines, I’m afraid the answer hasn’t changed.” 

Tony pushed past Steve to bend over and rest his elbows on the desk. He placed the check face down on the desk in front of him. “We-” he gave Stern glare for ignoring him when they first walked in. “-are here to pay off the fifteen grand.” 

“You found the money?” The banker was shocked. “That’s not possible-” 

“They you haven't met Tony.” Steve said smugly. 

Stern pawed through his papers furiously. “Actually, you still don’t have enough, there’s transfer charges, and a banker fee, and the interest-” 

“What?!?!” Steve roared, his hands balling up into fists. This was ridiculous. Would it be unethical to beat up an old man just doing his job? Yes. Would he do it? _YES._ Tony put a hand on his arm and they communicated silently. Tony winked and nodded his head at the check and Steve calmed down. Tony had a plan. 

Tony slapped his hands to his face comically. “Oh no! However much could that be? Oh if it’s anything over $200 we’d never be able to pay it! We'd be right back where we started!” 

Stern looked down at his papers, then at the wall, then back at them, shuffling things around and trying to make it look like he was doing something. “Hmph, well, uh, it looks like it will be…” he pretended to type some numbers into a calculator and while his head was down Tony stuck his tongue out t him and Steve stifled a snort. Stern looked up at them triumphantly, then plastered a fake look of sorrow on his face. “Oh no, this is just terrible, it really is!” 

“No! Nooooo!” Tony wailed. “Oh it can’t be!” He put a hand to his head and swooned back, Steve rushing forward to catch him, happy to play along with Tony's elaborate little game. He fretted over him, and helped him to a chair with exaggerated care. 

“Please Sir, let us know what it is, I don’t think Tony’s heart could bear another moment of this suspense.” He looked up at Stern with puppy eyes, Tony's limp hand clasped between his own. 

“Well, I’m afraid that you’re still $300 short.” Stern said, leaning forward and looking at Tony with some concern. So when Tony sprung up, he tipped over backwards in his chair with a startled noise. Tony grabbed the check from the table and flipped it over, slamming it back down to reveal that they had more than enough. His voice was loud and obnoxious and arrogant and yet somehow Steve had never found him more charming. 

“Wow! Would you look at that! $21 grand! I must have gotten confused. Oh well, silly me! Now there is absolutely nothing stopping you from finally closing this account.” 

Stern righted his chair and sat back down. Both Steve and Tony leaned forward threateningly. Stern gulped. “Right. I’ll just do that right now, shall I?” With trembling hands he wrote up the papers, deposited the money, and finally the loan was paid off in full. The ranch was safe. 

Steve screamed with pure unrestrained joy and flipped the desk. Stern jumped back with a started “Good lord!” as Steve turned to Tony who was laughing uproariously and swept him into a kiss. It had worked out earlier and it worked out well again. They only broke off as Stern started yelling at them about property damage. They broke apart and ran out of the office and down the hall back to the foyer. Steve quickly got a few hundred cash from the teller from their newly full checking account, and they made their escape before Stern could get over his shock and call the cops on them. 

As they walked out the door, Steve's keen ears caught a few sentences as Stern yelled on the phone, "-said you didn't give them enough! I closed it, I had to! They-" 

Then the door swung shut and they were home free, the sun shining brightly down on them as they raced through the parking lot. 

### 

They immediately headed to the pawn shop. They busted in the door, the bell over head the door almost knocked of its hook. They went up to the front, where the jewelry was kept in a glass display case. The owner welcomed them. 

“Selling or here for a buy back?” he asked with a smarmy grin and a raised brow. 

“Buy back.” Steve peered into the case, and quickly picked out his watch by the familiar brown band and silver face. He pointed, pressing a fingertip on the glass. “That watch… And we need Tony’s ring too. Gold band.” 

The owner pulled the watch out of the case and handed it back for a fair enough price. He leaned forward in the case again, squinting his eyes. “Which ring? I don’t see it.” 

Steve frowned. He didn’t see it either. He scanned the rows again. Silver, silver, silver, there was gold one, too old to be Tony's, silver, silver, a thin gold band, one with a ruby, one with a blue gem, what were those called? Sapphires? Then that was it, the next row was earnings. It wasn’t there. 

Tony covered his mouth. “Fuck. Obie is going to kill me.” He turned to the man. “Do you remember who bought it?” 

He shook his head. “Sorry Sir, a lot of people come through my store in a given day, I can’t remember them all. I don’t keep records, when so many of my customers pay cash. That’s the risk of using a place like this instead of getting a loan.” 

Steve put a arm around his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I know that ring had history.” 

Tony crossed his arms. “It’s fine. I don’t care. Why would I care? It’s just some dumb jewelry, it doesn’t matter.” 

Steve gave him a sad look, not fooled for a minute. He rubbed his hand up and down Tony’s back. Tony stiffened, and for a second Steve worried that he had overstepped his boundaries and that he was going to push him away. They were in public, and when Tony had told him about Yinsen he had turned away from all of Steve's offers of comfort. 

Then Tony turned, and pressed his face against his shoulder. He put his arms around Tony loosely; safe, but not trapped. He continued to gently rub his back. He was absolute shit at this sort of thing, but he was thankful for the chance to do it, considering it was partially his fault that Tony didn’t have his ring anymore. He shouldn’t have let him sell it in the first place, to bail his sorry ass out of trouble, but he’d been desperate enough to overlook a lot. 

“It’s just a dumb ring, it doesn’t matter.” Tony insisted. “I never met my grandpa anyway, so it’s better I don’t have to use his ring. This is totally fine.” 

Steve sighed. “Alright, Tony.” 

This wasn’t the time or place to push it. The shop owner cleared his throat, and gestured at the case. “There are other rings here, if you’d like.” 

Tony pulled away a little, now composed, and shook his head. “I don’t want to take some other person’s family ring, in some sort of loop of shitty luck. We’ll figure something out later.” 

They left the shop in disappointment, Steve’s arm still wrapped around Tony protectively. It made him upset to see him so quiet and glum. Tony was brash and loud and aggressively cheerful, and Steve was the one who was....not any of that. The role reversal left him feeling off balance. Steve wished they could go back to the morning, when they had the check and it seemed like everything was going to work out perfectly. 

“Well,” he started. “You know what this means.” 

Tony didn’t look at him, instead kicking a rock with a scuff of his shoe. “What?” 

He gently grabbed Tony's chin and pulled his eyes up to meet his. “We’re both getting married with ring pops and Clint will be in charge of taking pictures of every outraged stuffy old lady’s face.” 

Tony let out a quiet laugh. “Old ladies? It’s Obie who’d be having a heart attack. ‘That is not appropriate behavior for the pack heir, Tony,’” he mimicked, “Like I ever gave a fig about what anyone else thought.” 

“Right. There’s no point in starting now, is there? Let’s go.” He dragged him to the supermarket, and brought him to the candy display in the front. Steve pulled out the box of ring pops and rifled through the options. 

“Cherry, Watermelon, Blue Raspberry or Grape? Any ring you want, nothing is too extravagant for my very own ray of sunshine.” 

Tony shook his head. “Oh Steven, we both know I only agreed to marry you for your money. I want two rings or I’m walking.” 

Steve bit his lip, and pretended to think it over. “I suppose I could make room in the budget, if that’s what it takes. What flavors do you want?” 

Tony didn’t hesitate. “Rubies and Sapphires.” 

Steve passed over a cherry and a blue raspberry, and grabbed the same for himself. They went up to the cashier who rolled her eyes at two adults buying nothing but ring pops, and dutifully rung them up. They walked out of the store, and as Tony reached for the bag Steve pulled it away. “So which are for eating and which are for marrying?” 

Tony rolled his eyes, and reached for the bag again. “You can’t be serious.” 

Steve held it above his head, using Tony’s shorter height against him. 

“I’m dead serious. Pick, Tony.” 

And something about the look in his eyes and the whole messed up situation made Tony break down and laugh. He laughed and laughed and Steve pulled him against him and he was laughing too. He had felt everything under the sun for Tony, from hatred, to confusion, to something that he was honest enough to admit was probably lust, then frustration and hope and a hundred, no a thousand other things. 

And now he looked at Tony, and just knew. Knew that no matter what shit he got himself into, Tony’d be half a step behind pulling him out. He knew that on bad days he’d be the one beside him, coaxing and laughing and teasing until Steve could finally take a clear breath. And Steve realized that he could do the same thing for him, and was prepared to do it everyday for the rest of his life if necessary because he didn’t think he could ever bear to go a day without Tony’s smile. So he held him close as he chose, Tony's heart fluttering lightly under his arms, as he picked a ring. And as Steve got down on a knee, to slip a cherry ring pop onto Tony's finger in a supermarket parking lot, he finally labeled that feeling. The give and take, the trust, the knowing that this was Tony, his beautiful, impossible, perfectly imperfect Tony, the only thing he could call it was is love. 

### 

The next question was if Tony felt the same way, and it was answered two nights later when there was a knock at his door. 

Steve sat up in bed, jolted awake. At first he thought he dreamt it, then it came again, louder. He hauled himself up from his bed and opened the door. It was too dark to see, but his wolf nose told him it was Tony. Once the door was open, Tony pushed past him to sit on his bed. He joined him, confused and disoriented. It didn’t help that Tony jumped into a question out of nowhere. 

“You like me right?” 

“Um?” Steve brushed his hair back with a sleepy motion. “Yeah?” 

“Oh. Ok. That’s good.” 

Question answered, Steve collapsed backwards on the bed. “Ughhhh. What time is it?” 

Tony shifted, his silhouette just barely illuminated by the starlight coming in from the partially open drapes. In the back of his mind Steve registered the house creaking and the slightest shift of fabric against skin as Tony shrugged. “I dunno. Early?” 

“And you really needed to come ask me this now?” Steve asked, a little put out. He had to be up by 5 tomorrow, for god’s sake. Through his sleep muddled haze Steve was trying to connect the dots of what exactly was going on. Before he could figure anything out, Tony was already up, leaving, making excuses. 

“Yeah, no, you’re right, I should go, this was stupid…” 

Steve grabbed his arm. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m up anyway now, right? Stay.” Tony settled back on his bed, his body still tense, ready to leave. 

Steve kept his hand on his arm, holding him there. “What’s going on?” 

Though he still couldn’t see him, from his hand on his arm he could feel him shrug and turn away. “Nothing, it’s nothing.” 

Steve waited patiently as Tony shifted around restlessly and finally said, “It’s so quiet here.” 

He accepted the non sequitur smoothly. “Yeah. Nothing but bugs, birds, and the house. Sometimes the wind.” 

“When you say it like that, it’s a lot of stuff. But I never notice any of that. I go to bed and stare at the ceiling and everything is so dead quiet it makes my thoughts a hundred times louder until it’s been hours and it’s dark and I can’t sleep because everything is just rattling around and I just really need to know if you like me. Because we sort of had a moment, like a _moment_ , where we were joking around, then it didn’t feel like joking? Maybe? And I can’t seem to get it out of my head. Maybe it was just me?” 

“It wasn’t just you,” Steve interrupted. 

Tony didn’t seem to hear, brushing a hand down the blanket. “And it’s so stupid, because I never care what people think, I just live my life the way I want to live it. But out here where it’s so cold and quiet, I can’t tell if I don’t care because I don’t care, or if I don’t care because I’m afraid of what they’re going to say, and it’s so much easier to just drown it all out than to try to listen and hear everything I’ve ever feared people might say. I’m so afraid that nobody likes me, and I can’t even blame them because for most of this past year _I_ don’t even like me.” 

“Oh Tony,” he sighed, not even knowing where to start. Tony continued before he could say more, talking faster and faster. 

“And when I first got over all my anger around this whole arranged marriage thing, my first thought was relief. I said to myself, “Oh thank God, someone contractually obliged to love me!” Because there’s some part of me, a little monster lurking in the back of my mind, saying that no one will ever really love me, that no one will stay unless they have to or they need me, and the second I’m not useful I’ll be tossed to the wind, and at night it comes out and devours my mind until I come running to you in the middle of the night to ask if you like me like a third grader with a crush and it’s so pathetic-“ 

Steve cut him off by pulling him into a hug. He could feel Tony's heart beating frantically against his chest as he ran a hand through his hair. Tony grabbed fist fulls of his shirt, and he pressed his face tightly to his shoulder. Steve made small humming noises, not a song, just small pieces of melodies as he felt Tony gradually relax, and his heart calm. 

“I’m sorry.” Tony said dully, not looking up. 

He shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s ok. It’s all going to be ok.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that you got stuck with me.” 

Steve had to take a breath after hearing Tony's whole speech. Never in his life had he heard such absolute _horseshit._

“I’m not stuck. Stuck means trapped, stuck means unmoving, and the only thing you’ve done since I’ve met you is get me and my lousy ranch moving in the right direction. I’m glad you’re here. When I was younger my Ma would always say, “No cloudy thoughts on sunny days.” Sort of a little reminder, that you might be feeling bad inside, but things around you are still bright, still good, if you were willing to look. 

For a long time I forgot that. I used it as an excuse to not think about things, I used it as an excuse to mope, I used it to hurt myself. Even after I met you, I didn’t get it, and I’m still not perfect. But Tony, you’re my Sunshine, you’re my one good thing, you’re my constant reminder that there’s a whole world out there, beyond our immediate problems, and out there anything is possible. With you, anything is possible, as long as we're together and we keep trying. Look beyond the clouds, because there will be clouds, but behind them the sun is always shining. 

So, yeah, I like you, Tony. I like running with you as a wolf, I like watching the faces you make eating canned ravioli, I like your refusal to be anyone other than yourself, I like how you take bad news as a personal challenge to fix things. I like that I can trust you, and you trust me enough to tell me this stuff. I like you, and Jan and Clint like you too. In a few weeks we’re going to get married, and it’s going to be as ugly as Indries can get away with, and it’s going to be long and I won’t know anybody and will probably spill food on you and we won’t have real rings. 

And we’ll just say screw it to all of them, and have a great time anyway and you'll come home with me, and any time you doubt yourself, I’ll be here, for the rest of our lives, to say that at least one person really, truly loves you, all of you, just the way you are. I love you Tony, I love you very much.” 

Tony laughed wetly. “You’re such a sap.” 

He squeezed him tight and let go, laying back down on his bed. To his surprise, Tony laid down with him, resting a hand on his chest. 

“Just for the record, I love you too.” Tony whispered hesitantly, shy as a deer, and Steve felt warm from head to toe. 

So that was what it felt like to confess your love, Steve thought to himself. It didn’t go the way it did in movies, no running through airports or yelling from the rooftops or boomboxes involved. 

This felt quiet. This felt safe, and warm, like an extra log on an already roaring fire. He turned his head and breathed in the faint smell of metal and cinnamon from Tony’s hair, and wrapped a arm around him protectively. “Goodnight, Tony.” 

He mumbled it back, and the next thing Steve knew it was morning and Tony was gone, and when he saw him in the kitchen he was back to his normal confident self. But now there was a new softness present in Tony's eyes when he looked at him, a warm hand holding his under the table, a gentle kiss before he left the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update might take a few days, just to warn ya. I was editing the next chapter and I don't really like it the way it is right now.  
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve agrees to marry Tony to save his ranch from foreclosure. The dowry ends up falling short, but Tony agrees to help Steve and earns the extra money. The ranch is finally safe, and Steve and Tony are looking forward to the wedding.  
> In this chapter, they get an unexpected visitor, who challenges their relationship.

### 

Of course, declarations of love didn’t stop him from dumping Tony in the pond a week later when he found out he’d eaten the rest of the ring pops. Steve got more from the store and hid them in the top of his closet where he knew he couldn’t reach. Clint ended up in the pond too the second time for helping him get them down. While they were both yelling at him from the water, his sharp nose caught another wolf’s scent. 

Steve froze up. There were new wolves on their property. Last time there had been intruders…. 

He quickly pulled the other two out of the pond and they ran to the house. Steve slammed the door shut and yelled for Jan. There was no response, meaning she must be somewhere out back. Clint was outside in a flash, racing to find her so they could barricade the doors. Tony held up his phone, the question on his face clear. New wolves didn’t mean hostile wolves, but after the last time strangers had come to the ranch… Steve nodded and Tony dialed Stane. It was time to use the protection clause of the contract. Clint and Jan bolted back into the house, and Steve locked the backdoor behind them. After a moment's pause, he pushed the kitchen table in front of it for good measure. Clint held his pocket knife loosely in his hand, and Jan went to the kitchen and returned with their biggest knife and a frying pan, which she handed to Steve. They were much better fighters as wolves, and would shift in a second if someone actually got in. It still felt nice to hold something heavy in the meantime. They were all breathing heavily. Steve swore to himself that he would die before he let anyone hurt one of the few remaining members of his pack. He pulled back the curtain and looked out front, his whole body tense. As the sun set it made it harder to see what was going on outside. A single wolf stalked forward towards the front door, bold as you please, aggression present in every line of his familiar frame. Steve stared in disbelief, and pulled Clint over to see too. When he just gaped back open mouthed, Jan pushed her way to the front, only to let out a small gasp. Steve turned around and took Tony’s phone, ending the call before it was picked up. 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked. 

There was a scratch at the door. Steve dragged the table away and unlocked it. The door open with a small creak and the wolf walked inside, cautious with ears back and belly low to the ground. The wolf’s scent confirmed what Steve already knew. 

“Bucky???” 

The wolf shook himself, and his plain brown fur receded in a heartbeat to reveal the form of Steve’s supposedly dead brother. 

“Steve?” the familiar stranger asked. 

“Bucky.” Steve gasped, still hovering on the edge of disbelief. How was this possible? This couldn’t really be Bucky, could it? He took a step forward and his brother pulled him into a hug. Steve carefully wrapped his arms around him, like if he hugged too hard his long lost brother would just disappear. This guy looked like Bucky, sounded like Bucky, smelled like Bucky. Steve was overwhelmed, and by the slight tremble he could tell his brother felt the same. 

“God Steve, I thought you were dead.” 

Clint and Jan finally got over their shock enough to run over and join the hug. Steve opened one of his arms to include them, and kept one tight around Bucky. 

“I was dead? I’ve been here this whole time! You were the one who disappeared! Where were you? Is more of the pack still okay?” Steve asked, with an impossible surge of hope. If Bucky was still somehow okay…… 

Bucky pulled back reluctantly, shaking his head. “No, it’s just me. I was sick the day they came, remember? And Ma didn’t want me to leave the house. But I snuck out after you guys anyway, a couple hours after you left. When I got to the mill no on was there anymore, so I headed home, only to find the doors open and everyone dead. So I turned and ran like mad. I didn’t have any plan beyond getting as far away as possible. I was up north for a while, spent most of my time as a wolf, mourning and trying to decided what to do. Finally I decided that no mater what the danger was, I had to take back our home. I came back down to Evergreen and I ran into a small pack just a couple miles from here. They told me the whole Roger pack was dead, and they offered to let me join them, and together we would kill the thieves and take back the ranch. They're camped near by, and they planned to attack as a pack at night a week from now, but I couldn’t wait. I came to investigate who had stolen our home, and caught your scent. I expected to be fighting off the bank and a rival pack, and instead I found you!” 

Steve laughed, as the whole situation sunk in. The brother he had mourned for everyday for the past year was here, in front of him, giving him his familiar stupid grin. 

“Jesus, Bucky. I can’t believe this is real.” 

Bucky let out a rough laugh. “You’re telling me, pal!” 

Steve just shook his head in pure disbelief. Bucky. After all this time, Bucky was here, he was alive, he was healthy. Jan and Clint pulled him to the kitchen table to weasel out more details about where he’d been, and Tony tentatively joined them. Steve went up stairs to grab his brother some clothes. When he pushed open the door to Bucky’s room a cloud of dust swirled up. No one had been inside for the entire time he had been dead. Except he hadn't been dead. Just missing. 

He pulled out the bottom drawer of the dresser and grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt. Even if Bucky returned, Steve still felt like an intruder in the space that had lain empty for so long. He hurried back downstairs, half expecting Bucky to be gone and for all of it to have been a dream. He rounded the corner and Bucky was still there, sitting in the kitchen and laughing with Jan and Clint. Steve could almost pretend that the last year hadn’t happened, that they were just fooling around before dinner like normal, and any second now his Ma would come downstairs and yell at them all to get helping with dinner or get out of her kitchen. Of course, Tony had never been at the table back then. 

Bucky stood up and pulled on the clothes Steve handed to him. “So what all did I miss? How have you guys been doing?” 

Steve shrugged and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Well, to be honest we’ve been having a rough time of it. I never know what the hell I’m doing, you know that. I was never supposed to pack leader.” 

“Well you’ve done a great job of it!” Tony insisted. Bucky leaned forward with a friendly smile. 

“And who might you be?” 

Tony gave him a cocky grin. “I’m Tony, previous heir to the Stark pack.” 

Bucky tilted his head to the side playfully. “Previous heir, oh my. You're practically royalty then, aren't 'cha? And handsome to boot." 

Steve blinked at his brother, off balance. Bucky had always been a bit of a flirt. He liked to hang out at the soda machines, then later at the bar, and he'd chat up anyone who walked by. Most of Steve's crushes had been much more interested in his cooler older brother than him, and Steve didn't blame them. He used to be real small, and he'd been harder to get along with. Tony had never known Bucky, never had any frame of comparison for Steve. Now Tony had a more interesting, more charming version of Steve to compare him to. Well, shit. 

Bucky continued talking, oblivious to Steve's meltdown. "I’m guessing there’s a real story there. What made you switch over to our ragtag little bunch?” 

Tony looked to his left at Steve, who gave him an anxious smile. Tony put his hand over Steve's on the table, and Steve felt himself relax. This wasn't a schoolyard crush, this was _Tony_ , who had stuck with him through Hell and back, who had already seen him at his very lowest and still decided to stick around. He didn't need to worry. 

“We’re engaged.” Steve said proudly, shooting Tony a loving look, which he returned. 

Bucky laughed. “Your joking!” When no one else joined in, he noticed Tony’s glare and the red spreading across Steve’s cheeks. 

“You’re not joking? Holy shit, Steve! Last time I saw you you’d never had a real boyfriend or girlfriend, and now you’re engaged?” 

“Yup, well, that’s how it is.” Steve said awkwardly, trying to shut Bucky up before he made a big deal of things. Tony knew he didn't have a whole lot of experience with relationships, but he didn't need to hear any more from his brother about it. 

Bucky stood up and pulled him aside, shooting a glance at Tony. “Look, can we talk alone for a second?” 

Steve nodded and they walked out back and sat on the porch, just like they had every night for the past ten years, barring the last one. This was surreal, Steve thought as Bucky turned to him, hands clasped. 

“Alright Steve, what’s really going on here?” 

He looked back in confusion. Going on? Wait a minute, he thought. 

“What? I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend?” He asked indignantly. Sure he was a little hopeless in the romance department, okay, maybe very hopeless (several inches worth according to Tony), but still… it's not like this was impossible. Bucky saw his face and verbally back peddled, holding up his hands. 

“No, you are, it’s just…. he looks like, and you know, you’re all… and……“ He trailed off and seemed to give up on trying to explain. Instead he switched to questioning. 

“How did you meet this fella?” 

Steve looked away and fiddled with a piece of grass growing between the slates of the deck. Maybe now that Bucky was back they'd have time to do more household chores like weeding. God, his brother was back from the dead and all he could think about was chores. It was just so _weird_ his mind kept trying to revert back into its usual routine of chores and work, and gloss over the fact that Bucky was right there, asking about his fiancé. Two distinct sections of his life were suddenly combining, and he still couldn’t figure out how to make them overlap. 

Finally he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, it wasn’t the best of circumstances before we worked it all out.” He said, flicking the grass away, along with the question. 

Bucky sighed. “See, that’s what I’m worried about. I’m trying to look out for you.” 

He put a hand on his shoulder and Steve welcomed the familiar weight, even if the concern was unnecessary. “Look, I'll start at the beginning. Things were a real mess for a while, with the bank. We were dead broke even before we had to get sell off half the cows and pay for repairs and funeral costs. We got pretty deep in the hole, and the bank was going to take the ranch. So, I made a deal with Obadiah Stane.” 

“From the Stark pack?” 

“Yeah, that guy. He’d give us money to pay everything off and we could start over.” 

“So what, he gave you a loan? Guys like Stane, they don't give gifts, and I don't see how borrowing from him would be any better than the bank.” 

“It wasn't a loan.” He huffed, “It was a dowry. I agreed to an arranged marriage, signed a contract, and came home with a check and a fiancé. That was the first time I met Tony.” He gave a small shrug and tried to play it all off as no big deal, like he hadn't spent days agonizing over it and more time after regretting it. 

Bucky looked at him, horrified. He grabbed his arm and hissed, “I can't believe you did that! What were you thinking? This isn't the early 1800s, packs don't do arranged marriages anymore!” 

Steve shook him off, and rubbed his arm where Bucky fingers had made red marks. He felt like he was whining as he offered his defense. “It's not like it was my first choice. I was out of options and I had to keep the ranch somehow!” 

“The ranch isn't worth you tossing away your future and marrying some spoiled brat you'd never even met! Look, I'll go talk to Stane, I'll find you a way out of this, some loophole since we already have the cash.” 

Steve saw red for a second and had to take several breaths to calm himself down. He unclenched his fists and flattened them on his legs. Bucky thought he was being nice, he thought he was being generous, he didn't see it as stealing away yet another one of Steve’s crushes. Except this wasn't a crush, this was Tony, his fiery, impossible, Tony. If he laid a finger near him Steve was going to turn into a wolf and bite it off. He kept his voice even, though his displeasure still bled through. 

“I made my bed and now I'll lie in it, I'm not going to back out of a promise. And Tony's great, we're happy. Happier than I ever thought I'd be again, with everyone gone.” He tried to explain. 

“Sure.” Bucky said skeptically. “ Look, I'm back now, and I'll go clean up your mess tomorrow. God, This is just like you, to go barreling head first into trouble without thinking twice about the consequences. There's no way he really likes you, you know that, right? You really think a rich guy from the Stark pack, hell, the Stark heir himself, wants to live on our dumpy ranch and milk cows and make moon eyes at you? Be real here.” 

This sounded too similar to many of the thoughts Steve had first had when met Tony. He was going to stop his brother right there, before things got any further off the rails. 

“You don't know him, you don't know what he's like." 

"And you do? What's it been, a month? Two? You're making a fool decision, why can't you see that? You can't trust the Stark pack, and that includes Tony." 

Steve took a deep breath. His first instinct was to shift and start a wolf fight. Instead he reigned in his temper and stood up. 

“I'm going inside. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He turned and opened the screen door. Bucky caught it with his hand. 

“We’re not done here.” 

“We can talk tomorrow when we've calmed down. Good night. I'm sure Jan will be happy to find you some clean sheets.” 

Steve went inside, leaving his brother still holding the door, and walked straight to his room. He shut the door harder than necessary and collapsed on the bed. 

. 

### 

. 

He heard a creak as the door opened and shut, and he relaxed as he realized who it was. Tony came in and sat down beside him. He pushed himself around to lay his head in his lap and Tony brushed a hand through his hair. 

“Reunion not what you hoped for?” He guessed. 

Steve barked out a laugh. “Not even close.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “He doesn't like you.” 

“Not many people do. I'll win him over.” 

"It's going to be a uphill battle." He reached out and looped an arm around Tony's waist, moving upright and pulling him close. He rested his chin on his shoulder, and Tony tilted his head to rest against his. “But I'm not going to call off the wedding because Bucky is being a jerk about it.” Steve assured him.

“You're contractually obliged not to.” Tony responded, half serious. “We still have a week, and I could probably delay it further if I tried. We could wait.” he offered. Steve shook his head and pulled him closer. 

“He'll come around in time, promise. And if he doesn't, I'll marry you anyway.” 

“You just got him back, I don't want to be a reason for you two to fight.” 

“We always fight, that's how siblings work, Mister Only Child. It'll all work out, you'll see.” 

“Humph.” he grumbled, grudgingly deciding to give Steve the benefit of the doubt. Tony nudged him away and got up, heading for the door. He looked back over his shoulder. “Well, I'm glad you got him back.” 

Steve smiled. “Yeah. Me too. That doesn’t mean there’s not still room for you. Stay and sleep with me?” 

They had shared a bed a couple times since Tony had spent the night, sometimes when Tony couldn't stand the quiet, and sometimes when Steve wanted to sleep in a room that didn't smell like cows. Tonight, Steve wanted the comfort of him near with all the sudden changes going on. 

“The wedding is a week away, you don’t want to wait?” Tony asked, scandalized. 

“No” Steve blushed. “Not like that. Just…” As he tried to finish the thought Tony walked back and laid down on the bed. 

“I know what you mean. You’re just too much fun to mess with.” 

“I change my mind, the wedding is off.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and didn’t bother to respond. Steve put an arm around his waist and they drifted off to sleep. 

. 

### 

. 

The next morning Tony was there when his alarm went off. He shut it off, and the other man didn’t even stir. He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair in a gentle pet, marveling at how soft it was. He realized he was still in his normal clothes, and felt bad. “You could have left for pajamas.” 

Tony cracked open an eye and growled at him. “It is way too early for talking, Steven.” 

“Right. I’ll bring you some eggs.” He said, getting up. 

“It’s too early for eggs,” he mumbled, shoving his head under a pillow. “I want coffee.” 

Steve gave his shoulder an affectionate pat and walked over to his dresser to try to find a clean shirt. And wonder of wonders, he had several. This was already shaping up to be a great day. He switched his pajama pants for jeans and and went downstairs to start breakfast. As he walked towards the stairs, he passed Bucky’s room. In the old days, he’d always wake Bucky up, and drag him downstairs to where their Ma had made breakfast. He hesitated. Should he still…? 

He lowered his hand from where it was raised to knock, and went downstairs alone. 

In the kitchen, he started the coffee percolating first. Next he whipped eggs together with milk and poured it into a frying pan heating on the stove. They had cheese, jalapeños, and ground bacon in the house, more food than Steve could ever remember. In the weeks since they had paid off the bank, they suddenly had a large chunk of cash free that used to go towards paying off interest, or paying repair bills. Tony had also gotten a job doing something he called “Virtual consulting”, and Steve had no clue what that meant beyond Tony typing away at his computer for a few hours every day and getting a check involving multiple zeros at the end of every two weeks. So now they had as much food as they could eat, and he made his fancy special occasion eggs every day, just because he could. 

Jan and Clint stumbled downstairs as he made up the first plates. They dug in happily, and he took his plate and Tony’s upstairs along with a couple forks and a large mug of coffee. As he walked down the hall, he ran into Bucky. 

“Oh, that for me?” He asked with a grin. “Special occasion eggs, huh? You didn’t need to break out the big guns for me, but I guess a guy doesn’t come back from the dead every day.” 

Steve winced, mad at himself for forgetting to make up an extra plate. Bucky's return still felt too dream like to factor into everyday decisions like how many plates of eggs to make. 

“Yeah. Here you go,” he said, handing over a plate reluctantly. “Other one’s for Tony, so I’ll be right back, alright? Maybe you can go downstairs and eat with Jan and Clint.” 

Bucky frowned at him. “He’s too lazy to get his own breakfast? That’s-” 

“A bad sign, I know, whatever. Maybe I wanted to do something nice, ok? I’ll see you in a bit.” 

He tried to walk past but Bucky grabbed his arm. “It’s like you’re not even glad I’m back. It’s all Tony this, Tony that. Did you even miss me?” 

“How could you even ask me that? Yes I missed you! I was a mess, you can ask Jan, Clint, anyone. The main reason I’m not still a mess is Tony, so if you don’t mind I’d really like to go see him.” 

Bucky let go of his arm like he was burned, and Steve brushed past him to go into his room. It wasn’t until he turned to shut the door and saw Bucky’s shocked look that he realized that Bucky was now left thinking either he lied and was eating alone in his room, or that Tony was sleeping with him. Which was technically true, but not in the sense his brother would assume. He could already hear Bucky telling him that he was in too deep, that he had lost perspective. He shut the door with a sigh. 

Tony sat up in bed, his hair adorably fluffy. “What’s wrong?” 

“I lost half my eggs and most my dignity,” he responded, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing him the plateful of eggs. Tony ignored it to steal and gulp down the cup of coffee. He let out a happy sigh and accepted the eggs. Tony shoved a bite into his mouth, and tried to talk around it, holding a hand over his mouth because he seemed to think that made talking with your mouth full polite. “It’s cute that you think you had any dignity to begin with.” 

Steve got on the bed and leaned against the headboard, his arms crossed. “Well, I’m doing my best with what I got.” He retorted, some bite in his words. 

Tony frowned and stopped inhaling the eggs. “Aww, baby. You’re actually upset.” 

“I’m not upset.” 

“You’re a little upset.” Tony countered. “What happened?” 

“I ran into Bucky in the hall. Since he’s gotten back, all I’ve done is fight with him.” 

Tony scooted up the bed to lean against the headboard next to him. He offered him the plate and fork and Steve took a couple bites. “Is it really so much to ask to have a normal conversation?” he asked with a sigh. 

“Apparently. Is there anything you two used to like to do together, that you could hang out and ease yourselves back into it?” 

“Fishing maybe? That’s a good idea, we always had good times fishing by the pond.” 

“Either that or you fight him. That’s how I usually do it.” 

He handed the plate back to him. “Yeah, I’m aware. You bit me.” 

“Love bite, you big baby. And now you’ve gone and eaten all my eggs.” 

He glanced down at the plate. Yeah, that ended up being way more than half. “Payback for the bite,” he concluded. 

“You’re the worst. Go get me more eggs.” 

“No, I’m hiding. You go bring _me_ eggs.” 

“I guess we’ll both starve then. If you die first I’m eating your corpse. Would it still be cannibalism if I was in my wolf form and you’re human?” 

“I worry about you sometimes, you know that? Let’s both go endure the awkward reunion together.” 

Tony sighed dramatically but agreed, and wiggled his way out of bed, holding his half full mug of coffee possessively. Steve grabbed the empty plate and followed him out the door. They walked downstairs and Steve put more eggs from the pan onto the plate for Tony, and got out a second plate for himself. They sat at the table with the rest of the pack, where Jan and Clint were close to done. Bucky was still pushing the eggs around his plate, not making progress as much as he was making piles. They wished him a good morning and Bucky returned it absentmindedly, staring at Steve with concern. He put down his fork with a loud clink. 

“What’s on your mind?” Jan asked him. 

“I’m going to need to get going today.” 

Everyone at the table froze. 

“But you just got here?” Steve asked in shock. Bucky was being annoying but that didn’t mean he could just leave, less than a day after they got him back. 

“I wasn’t supposed to be gone this long. The other people I was with will be worried about me. Plus I have a few questions for them. Some of the things they told me… it doesn’t matter. I’ll be back in time for the wedding.” 

He got up from the table and Jan grabbed his arm, looking close to tears. “No! You can’t go! You can’t!” Clint and Steve quickly agreed. 

Bucky shook his head sadly. “It’s only a few days. You think anything could keep me from you guys now that I know you’re alive? I just have a few suspicions I need to look into for the good of the pack, then I’ll be right back, promise.” 

Steve knew Bucky well enough to tell that this wasn’t something he could change his brother’s mind on. So despite more pleading from Jan and Clint, less than an hour later Bucky was back out the door, once again gone from their lives. The extra plate in the sink was the only proof that Bucky had ever come back from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy this week, but I'm back! There's one more chapter to go, then the conclusion and some art. Hopefully this story will be fully complete by Monday? We'll see. Thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve decides to marry Tony to get his dowry to save the ranch. Problems arise, but they're are finally able to pay off their debts. Bucky comes back, and is worried about Steve's decision because he doesn't trust the Starks and thinks Steve is in too deep to see clearly. After a fight, Bucky leaves to go investigate further.  
> In this chapter, it's time for a wedding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Warnings for this chapter could be spoilers so quit reading the notes now if you don't need them, otherwise here you go:  
> There's body horror, physical violence, animal violence, gun violence, fighting, blood, gore, death, and loss of limbs.  
> It's a little graphic and it's fine if you don't want to read it, I always summarize the plot at the top of the next chapter so you won't miss anything.

### 

Steve’s alarm went off, but something felt wrong. It was too late, the sun was shining through his curtains, he should have been up over an hour ago, why had- then it clicked. He laughed and pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. 

Today was the day. He was getting married. He was actually getting married. He quickly showered, and pulled out the fancy suit from his closet. Though he would be giving up his claim to the pack by marrying him, Tony was still a Stark and the son of the previous Alpha. Him being married off with anything less than the best would be embarrassing to the pack. So, a new fitted suit for Steve, probably the nicest thing he had ever worn. Tony had been in charge of their suits, dragging all of them down to the city as soon as they finished their chores. Once there, he had shoved Steve into a dressing room with a armful of suits to try on. He spent the rest of the afternoon changing between suits that all looked the same to him, while Tony and Jan fretted over every little detail. Steve had never worn a suit before, and didn’t much like it. Then Tony threatened him with a tux, and he shut up. Eventually they settled on something, and Steve went in the next room to get it fitted while Tony looked for something for himself. Apparently he got a good one, though Steve was working off Jan’s description and at this point she was so thrilled for the wedding even a brown canvas bag would be described as ‘absolutely perfect’. Steve had figured out her over the top excitement for anything wedding related when they found out they’d be drinking from mason jars instead of real cups and she had squealed with joy, gong on about themes and hipsters, but the cool kind of hipsters, you know? 

That had made Indries pause for a long moment, mentally trying to figure out how cups with screw lids were a good thing for drinking glasses, and how she could change it to make it worse. For the wedding planning, Indries had held true to form, and they were getting married in a barn with a color theme of brown and black. The cake was black and white spotted and topped with two plastic cows, noses touching like they were kissing. Indries had sent a picture and Steve had laughed his ass off while Tony fumed. The whole thing already seemed weird and over the top to him, why not toss some cows in there? Nothing wrong with cows, though he and Tony would technically be bulls. Or wolves? Ok, maybe Tony had a point about the cake toppers. 

Right now Tony was at his old place with Jan, having slept over at the Stark pack’s to avoid the bad luck of them seeing each other the morning before the wedding. Jan was there to make sure Tony made it there on time and presentable. If left to his own devices he quickly lost track of time and dates. Didn’t matter much on the ranch, not like the cows scheduled appointments. Steve knew he was gone on his fiancé because he found it charming that Tony got so invested in what he was doing he lost track of time, rather than annoying that he was always late for everything. 

Then Clint burst into Steve’s room with a shout, interrupting his train of thought. “Steve! You’re getting married!” 

“I’m getting married!” He yelled back gleefully. His joy immediately switched to panic. They had an hour before they needed to drive out, and Steve spent ten minutes getting ready and the rest of the time pacing while Clint snacked and threw peanuts at him. 

“What if I forget what to say?” Peanut to the forehead. 

“What if he changes his mind?” Peanut to the chest. 

“What if Bucky shows up late?” Peanut to the shoulder. 

"He didn't like Tony much, what if he objects?" Peanut to the head. 

“What if someone attacks us?” Peanut to his eye. 

“Fuck!” 

Clint sat up from where he was lazing on the couch. “Oh sorry, didn’t mean to get your eye. You get what I’m going for here though, right?” 

“I know, I know. Knock it off with the peanuts.” Steve complained, rubbing his eye. 

“Stop worrying then. And get over here, you can’t marry Tony with peanuts in your hair.” 

Once Clint brushed the last of the nuts from his hair, they got in the truck and Steve started driving towards the venue. Bucky still hadn’t returned, and they were hoping he would meet them there in time for the ceremony. 

Clint, Bucky and Jan were going to be standing for him as groomsmen. Tony’s side had a tall red headed woman standing in heels that made her even taller, a stout and pale blonde man with a boxer’s nose, and a frowning African American man who held himself like he was career military. It was a weird reminder that Steve didn’t know much about Tony’s past, or his friends in the Stark pack. 

They were all hanging out in a little room off to the side except for Jan, and the tall woman, Pepper, who were both off somewhere with Tony. Bucky was missing too. They hadn’t seen him since he spent the night a week ago. They waited as the guests filed in and sat down in folding chairs lined up to fill the barn. It wasn’t a real barn, the floor was perfectly clean and fairy lights hung from the eves. He had been horrified at the rehearsal when Tony had explained to him that it was designed to look like a barn, but was only used for themed weddings. Waste of a perfectly good building, if you asked him. All they were doing was signing a paper and having a party, they could do that anywhere. His ma had gotten married out back by the grapevine trellis, and she had been happy enough with that. 

Steve was going through all of his worries again with Clint when he heard a commotion and turned around. Tony was stalking through the crowd, clearly looking for someone, while Pepper followed a few steps behind. Steve frowned. Tony wasn’t supposed to be here yet, it was a quarter 'til the wedding. 

“What is Tony doing?” Steve asked Jan as she walked up beside him. 

“I don’t know! That crazy lady dragged him away as soon as we got here yesterday, I didn’t see him until the car ride over and he was dead silent the whole time. He must be having pre-wedding jitters, poor guy.” 

The door to the barn opened and Stane stepped through. Tony was on him in a flash, hissing questions too quietly for Steve to hear. Stane put a possessive hand on his shoulder, and guided him back out. 

Tony must have been looking for Stane so they could start the ceremony, there was nothing to worry about. Steve went back to chatting with Clint, and now Jan to. In fifteen minutes they made their way to the front of the barn. The organs let out the first crooning note, the door at the end of the hall opened, and Tony stepped out. Stane was walking him down the aisle, one arm looped possessively through his. Tony was stiff as a board, his face blank. His normally fluffy hair was tamed back almost aggressively and he looked pale in his black suit. When he reached the alter Steve took Tony’s hands, and they were trembling. 

Something was wrong, something was very wrong. He tried to communicate with Tony through a look, and he looked away. Steve was frozen, unsure what was going on or what he needed to do, as hundreds of strangers stared at them. 

The notary prompted him. “Your vows?” 

Steve’s mind was blank. “I love you.” He blurted out. 

Everyone waited to see what else he had to say. Steve racked his brains and couldn’t think of a single thing else as Tony shook and kept his eyes firmly locked on the wall behind Steve. After a awkward silence and a muffled laugh from Indries, it was Tony’s turn. 

Tony had seemed so excited for the wedding yesterday. He had shot Steve happy looks all day, and they had danced together in the living room as Jan sang like a dying cat and Clint struggled through a horrendous attempt at music on their late uncle’s guitar. He’d seemed loose, open, happy. Now he was as closed off as when they’d first met. 

The silence stretched on. 

“Tony….?” Steve asked desperately. 

In the front row Stane crossed his arms and the notary gulped. “It’s fine, he doesn’t have to say anything. Let’s just wrap this up. Steven, Alpha of Rogers pack, do you take Anthony of the Stark pack to be your lawfully wedded husband and chosen mate, and accept him into your pack with no reservations?’ 

“I do.” Steve agreed quickly. 

“Anthony, heir to the Stark pack, do you take Steven of the Rogers pack as your lawfully wedded husband, and chosen mate, surrendering all claims to your old pack?” 

Tony breathed heavily and pulled his hands away. There was a flash in the bottom of his eye and Steve watched as Tony clutched his family ring, the one that they thought was lost. Tony stared at it, then shuddered and closed his eyes. 

“I do.” 

The doors at the end of the hall burst open and Bucky ran into the barn. 

“Hey! You made it!” Steve said, shocked to see his brother. 

“I object!” Bucky yelled, skidding to a stop in front of the couple, panting roughly. His clothes were a mess and he was scratched up to hell and back. 

Steve looked at him in confusion and concern. “We already said yes?” 

“Get this man out of here, he’s disrupting the wedding.” Stane said, gesturing for a pair of beefy men sitting in the back row to move forward and escort him out. 

“Hey, that’s my brother. He stays.” Steve said, indignantly. He stepped between the men and Bucky. Jan and Clint followed loyally. 

Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm. “It was a trap, it was all a trap. Stane has been behind everything. The pack I met? They work for Stane, they killed our pack, and they were camped out to finish the job after the wedding.” 

Steve’s mind was reeling. “Why?” He asked, trying to process the monumental news and figure out if it was true. 

“He wanted our land. Now that you’ve married Tony, the packs are tied together and if the last of our pack dies the land reverts to Stane. And he’s shown no problem with killing off our pack.” Bucky snarled. 

Stane huffed dismissively and motioned his men forward. “I make more money in a day than you will see in your entire life. I don’t care about a minuscule plot of land in the middle of nowhere. Guards, remove this man.” 

Tony stepped in front, joining the rest of the Rogers pack. He threw the ring at Stane, and it bounced off his chest and rolled away on the floor. “You promised me less than a half an hour ago that if I never told anyone what Pepper found out, you’d leave the rest of the Roger pack alone!” 

Without the heavy smell of cigar smoke in the air, Stane smelt wrong, unnatural. He smelt dangerous. Stanes face contorted in rage and he slapped Tony, the sound ringing loud through the barn. People in the audience gasped and stood. Steve caught Tony as he stumbled back, his cheek red and his eyes wide with shock. Tony’s groomsmen joined the Roger pack in facing off against Stane. The numbers were looking good until a group of rough looking men entered the barn and joined the ring of guards already surround Stane. Suddenly they were drastically outnumbered. As Bucky snarled Steve realized that they must have been the goons Stane had hired to kill his pack. Steve growled too, low and threatening, ready to shift at a moment’s notice. 

Meanwhile, Stane was trying to yell out explanations to the crowd, who were milling around in a panic over the sudden confrontation. “Everyone knows that the Roger pack doesn’t take the suppression shots, they shifted uncontrollably and turned on each other as wolves. You all saw the papers on the wolf attacks! Now they’re wild with grief, a danger to everyone around them. They need to be put down like the out of control monsters they are. Guards!” 

As the guards stepped forward, a group of tough looking men broke away from the crowd of guests. A mild looking man stepped forward and introduced himself. “Phil Coulson of the Shield pack. I’m afraid we’ve going to have to take you in for a full investigation of what happened to the Roger pack.” 

“Who the hell invited you guys to the wedding?” Tony asked, leaning on Steve. “Whatever, talk to Pepper, she has proof of Ob- of Stane ordering the attack. More than enough to put him behind bars.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Stane snarled. The unnatural chemical smell filled the air and his skin started stretch as he bent over with a howl. He was shifting, but it wasn’t like any shift Steve had ever seen. Clumps of black fur erupted in spotty patches as Stane seemed to expand in size, his body warping. 

“Did you ever look into what Yinsen was really working on after he switched departments?” He spat at Tony through broken teeth. “He talked a good game about peace, love, and harmony, but at the end of the day his skill set was in biological weapons, and he rolled over and did what I said the second I threatened to kick his family out of the pack. He wasn’t working on suppressants, he was working to make the wolf inside stronger. Too bad he started turning you into a hippie and had to be put down.” 

Stane straightened, now twice as big and trapped halfway between man and wolf, with sharp claws protruding from human fingers, and standing tall on two legs bent backwards like a dog. Fur like spider legs thinly covered pulsing veins. Blood and spit ran from his mouth, his jaw twisted to the point where he spoke in tortured growls. Everyone in the barn was screaming and trying to escape, their leader having become the thing they feared most; an out of control wolf. 

All of Stane’s guards shifted to wolves, and the men who identified themselves as being of the Shield pack shifted and started fighting them. 

Tony shifted and before Steve could stop him he jumped on his former guardian, snarling and biting. Stane let out a gurgling laugh and knocked Tony across the room, where he hit the wall with a thud and lay still. In a second Steve was shifted and his suit fell off him in tatters. He charged at Stane, Bucky right behind him, leaping up. Even the weight of two full grown wolves was not enough to bring Stane down as he continued to grow, and he swiped them off with a snarl. Steve rolled across the floor and quickly regained his feet. He saw Clint and Jan preparing to shift and he ran over to them, grabbing Jan’s sleeve in his teeth and dragging her towards Tony. They got the idea and ran to help the downed wolf, which kept them safely out of Stane’s path. 

Steve returned to the fight, where Bucky and the new wolf Coulson were circling. Stane was snapping at them, and the longer he fought, the bigger he seemed to get, muscle straining out of proportion, limbs lengthening in uneven spurts. Stane lashed out with a misshaped limb and Coulson went down, skidding across the room and slamming into a row of empty chairs. With the others fighting the guards, that left only Steve and Bucky to face off against Stane. 

They each picked a side and lunged, perfectly in sync after years of hunting together. Steve got a big mouthful of skin, and felt blood run between his teeth, tasting bitterly of chemicals. He let go and dived away in time to avoid the teeth of his opponent. With Stane’s head straining towards Steve, Bucky went for his throat, swiping with his claws and missing by an inch as Stane reared back. He snapped his head forward, grabbing Bucky’s leg in a death grip. 

He bit down with a sickening crack that resounded through the church. Bucky fell to the ground, limp, and Stane shook his head back and forth triumphantly, Bucky’s front leg held tight between his teeth. 

He spat it to the ground, splattering the floor with blood where it soaked into the dirt. "You should have stayed lost, little lamb." 

Steve was frozen in shock, his eyes locked onto the bleeding form of his brother. Stane took advantage of his distraction and pinned him to the ground with one enormous hand/paw hybrid. Steve struggled against his hold and Stane leaned in, breathing wet and metallic in Steve’s face, rivulets of blood and drool running down his muzzle. “You have beautiful fur. I might kill you quick, then keep you as a rug. I’d mount your head in my office next to Tony’s.” 

Steve bit him in the throat and tried to squirm away. “Stay away from my pack and my ranch!” 

The bite healed as quickly as it was made. Stane shook his enormous head. “You Rogers and your ranch. I never cared about your shitty little plot of land or your worthless cows. I needed a reminder to keep the other wolves in line and on their medication. A bow is a powerful weapon, unless every opponent you face has a bow as well, and what is a wolf but another weapon? I’ve been in the munitions business long enough to know that you either have to find a way to destroy your opponents bows, or make yourself a gun. As you can see, I decided to do both. You were a means to an end, and then a convenient way to get Tony out of the inheritance and leave the pack to me. Now it’s time to clean up loose ends, once and for all.” 

“You wanna talk guns? I’ve got your gun right here.” 

Both wolves head’s snapped up to see Tony, standing in the doorway of the barn, holding a rifle. He aimed it and pulled the trigger without hesitating, the shot ringing loud. A hole appeared between Stane's eyes, and blood sprayed from the back of his head. Stane tipped over slowly, his body hitting the ground with a final thud, dead. 

Tony walked down the aisle to Steve for the second time that day, and when he reached the end he put another two shots in his guardian’s head, the smell of gunpowder filling the air. 

Steve shifted back to human from where he lay panting on the ground. Tony helped him to his feet and pulled him into a hug. Steve buried his face in Tony’s hair, breathing in his familiar scent of home and safety. 

He forced himself to pull away. “We have to get Bucky to a hospital.” 

The plain man from earlier approached them. “Your groomsmen have already left with him. I promised them I would look after you two.” 

“And who are you again?” 

“Phil Coulson, of Shield. After a lack of justice through human courts about werewolf matters, a group of like minded wolves decided to come together and create a peace keeping force. I sent you a letter?” 

At Steve’s blank look the man sighed. “Nobody ever responds to my letters.” He shook it off and was soon back to a model of polite professionalism. “All of the wolves who worked on the serum Stane had will need to be investigated and possibly put to trial, as well as the task force who murdered your pack. We’ll be in touch.” 

The man turned and walked away to regroup with his pack, who had taken down Stane’s guards during their fight and were tying them up. 

Steve went over to the remains of Stane’s clothes and rustled through them until he found his car keys while Tony had a hurried conversation with his three friends, who had helped as humans during the fight, beating back wolves with folding chairs. They all appeared relatively unharmed, to Tony's relief. Tony rejoined Steve and they went out to the dirt lot where the cars were parked. 

“Where did you get the gun?” Steve asked, while hitting the unlock button repeatedly to figure out which car was Stane’s. 

“We're in a barn in the middle of nowhere, and most people who aren’t wolves themselves need something for protection against wildlife in mountain lion and coyote country. After Jan and Clint woke me up I broke into the tool shed looking for a axe or something, and found a gun. After years of working with and designing the things I’m a decent shot.” 

The headlights of a vintage silver sports car flashed and they made their way over to it. They got in, and Steve started it up. 

“Where do you think they took Bucky?” Tony asked. 

“He was still a wolf, so nearest vet.” 

Steve raced the car out of the lot, driving back down the dirt road to the same unfamiliar town that they had passed on the way in. He pulled over at the first few buildings and Tony hopped out before the car rolled to a stop. 

“Nearest vet?” He asked the people walking down the sidewalk. Most ignored him, but an old lady took pity and pointed down the street. 

“Take this road until you get to Apollo street, then make a left. There’s a sign with a dog out front.” 

Tony nodded his thanks and got back into the car to relay the directions to Steve. A few minutes later they pulled up at the vet and went inside. Steve breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Jan and Clint sitting together in the front, unharmed. The two of them ran over and started fussing, making sure Tony and Steve were ok. Jan frowned at how Tony was favoring his left side where he had hit the wall, but he assured her nothing was broken. Steve was ok except for bruises, which felt unfair after what had happened to his brother. 

“How is Bucky?” Steve asked desperately. 

Jan started sniffling. “They have him under anesthesia in the back. They weren’t able to reattach his arm.” 

After a few hours of anxious sitting, the vet let them take Bucky home with a bottle of pills and strict instructions for rest and care. They brought him home and Steve settled him safely in his bed, still knocked out. A grey bandage covered a stump, and Steve winced away in guilt. He should have saved him, and was incredibly lucky that he was still here, and still alive. Steve didn't know what he would have done if he had lost Bucky a second time. Probably something drastic like crashing a plane. 

Bucky would be stuck in wolf form until the stitches came out, so they would need to figure out a ramp of some sort. But that was a problem for later. Steve went back to his room where he collapsed into bed, alone. 

And thus ended his wedding day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, Steve makes an agreement with Stane to marry Tony. He doesn't like Tony but he needs the dowry to pay off the debts on his ranch after his pack was killed, and they fall short anyway. They pawn their stuff to buy Tony a computer which he uses to make up the extra money. When they go back to the pawn shop Tony's ring is gone. Steve proposes anyway, having learned to love Tony. Bucky comes back from the dead, but what he's been hearing sounds odd so after a fight with Steve he leaves to go investigate further. The wedding happens, and Tony is upset after a confrontation with Stane, and the return of his ring. He still says "I do", then Bucky bursts in and claims that Stane killed the Roger pack. Tony says that it is true, Pepper showed him proof the previous day and Stane threatened him to keep silent. Shield and the guards fight while the main characters take on Stane. Stane morphs into a huge wolf and admits that he killed the Roger pack to scare his pack into taking suppressants that block shifting. He also had Yinsen working on a serum to make the wolves bigger and strong, and had him killed when he started filling Tony's head with doubts about weapons. They kill Stane but Bucky loses his arm.

A couple months later Steve tossed the last of Tony’s suitcases in the back of the truck as the sun started peeking out from behind the mountains. They both got in the truck, and Steve started it up. Only took him one try, since Tony redid the wiring. Steve drove them both the long drive to Stark Industries where he parked the car and Tony got out. He watched as Tony made his way to the front door and stepped inside. 

In a few weeks after the battle, Bucky had healed enough to get his stitches out, and was back to his human self. During his recovery Tony had worked nonstop to build him a new arm. It didn’t have the full function of his flesh and blood arm, but it was getting closer with every iteration. Tony claimed that one day he’d get it stronger and faster than any old meat arm. In a battle between Mother Nature and Tony, Steve was betting on Tony. Bucky had been out back having a rock skipping contest with Clint when they left to come here. 

Inside Stark Industries, Tony was signing away the company and pack to Pepper. After watching him shift to a wolf, years of conditioning told the pack that Tony was a danger who could not be trusted. He was also close to Stane, and everyone else close to their previous leader was currently in jail. The final straw was that Tony was still firmly anti weapon. The pack did not want him back, even if Tony was willing, which was debatable. Tony had taken to the country life surprisingly well, and didn’t want to leave the ranch. Instead, he convinced others to come join them. After the disastrous wedding, some of the members of the Stark pack began to doubt what Stane had taught them. A quick demonstration of an easy shift and a safe wolf form had them convinced to switch packs, and left Steve airing out rooms in the house that had been empty for years. Rhodey, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, Sam, Pietro, Wanda and Hank moved in and never looked back. Pepper and her husband Happy stayed behind at the Stark pack, to slowly guide them away from weapons without putting the company under and everyone out of work. It was a difficult job, but Tony was sure that if anyone could do it, it would be Pepper. 

Steve had to agree, after meeting her a second time at their do over wedding. The first one hadn’t took, since they never exchanged rings or signed the marriage certificate, so they picked a sunny day, hired a new notary, and invited everyone out to the grapevine trellis in the backyard. 

This time Tony showed no hesitation in trotting down the path to meet Steve. 

Tony was gorgeous. His hair was fluffy and he looked downright dapper in a suit jacket over a band t-shirt. Steve himself was wearing his nice jeans and a thankfully clean shirt. 

As soon Tony he reached the front he grabbed Steve’s hands, and held them tightly. 

The notary prompted them. “Your vows?” 

Steve gave Tony a goofy grin. “I’ll start with the only part I got right last time. I love you, I love you so much, I could spend the rest of my life saying it and it wouldn’t be enough. And when we first met I didn’t even like you? I thought you were annoying, I thought you were stuck up.” 

“You sure know how to flatter a guy.” Tony said dryly. 

“Hush, I’m not done. Somehow I got from dreading this day to looking forward to it, from hating you to loving you, and we’re here now, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. I invited three people to a wedding of three hundred guests, because they were all I had left. For a long time, things were terrible. There was responsibility, there was work, and there was debt, and there wasn’t much else. Then there was you, telling me to man up and fix it. You helped me through my lowest, and make me the best version of myself. My wonderful Tony, my light at the end of the tunnel, my sunbeam through the clouds, my beloved Sunshine. You are the light of my life, and I am so happy to be here, and I am so honored that you’ve chosen me back. I promise to love and cherish you, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live.” 

Tony cleared his throat. “Ok, well, I’m going to go fast because I don’t do sentimental, just ask Pepper. 

I came here lost. I was reevaluating my life to the point where I no longer knew who I was. I hated what I was doing, and when I stopped I wasn’t welcome in my pack. I had nowhere to go, until I came here, and found acceptance. For me, and for my wolf. I was always trying to deny a part of myself, locking up my wolf, thinking I was dangerous, a monster on so many levels. You loved me to the point where I learned to love myself. 

Last time I was about to marry you, Pepper came to me and spent the whole night going through evidence that Stane had your pack killed. I confronted him, and he laughed and said he was behind all of it, from the bank to the ring. He said if I breathed a word of it or backed out of the wedding, he’d kill you too. And in that moment I realized I absolutely could not live without you. You’re always there for me, and I know no matter how lost I am, you’ll always be there, standing solid as a tree, reliable as the north star, guiding me home. So I promise you in return, I’m always going to be there for you, in any way I can, as long as we both shall live.” 

The notary nodded, and handed them both a pen. They signed their names on the marriage certificate, hands steady. 

“You may now exchange rings.” 

Steve reached in his suit jacket, and pulled out a cherry ring pop, Tony doing the same. The group all laughed. 

“We’re going to be that tacky couple with perfectly matching rings, aren’t we,” Tony said with an exaggerated sigh, as he slid the ring onto his husband’s hand. Steve put his ring on Tony, and with that, they were married, for real this time. Steve tugged him forward into a kiss, and Clint threw a handful of rice at them and let out a wolf whistle. 

Then they had gone inside for fresh made ravioli, and gone to bed to do their wedding night right. 

That was yesterday, and now they were dealing with the last of the paperwork before heading off on their honeymoon. Tony emerged from the building, a smile on his face. He got back in the car, shaking it side to side slightly. With fall shading into winter, and all the extra hands, work on the ranch had slowed to a crawl. For the first time in over a year Steve had time and money to burn. When Tony suggested a honeymoon after their wedding, Steve jumped on the idea. They had two weeks to do whatever they pleased, wherever they wanted. 

“Ready, Sunshine?” Steve asked. 

“Ready!” Tony answered with a grin. Steve started up the truck and pulled out of the lot and started driving, the freedom of the road stretching wide before them, the sun bright in the cloudless sky. 

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The End 

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[](https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipMPcH2K-8Z26unjTXLPY43swmn03jYcrSfxt4kReN-Qd76Nk6atdwqhlG0B09rP2Q?key=SjBUeUlYbkU3c29iTDB5Y0JRMGtnWF92VDFTTExR&source=ctrlq.org)  


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[](https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOvv0xsCM_xEDTkQIg9E_HDtggwfGkzH_Fcp3bbvZ6MUOqNRAZ8tVjfaBdR6kA03A?key=QXNYUEdvaW1zMjMtaWNyV19zUDA0OHlra2p0SE5n&source=ctrlq.org)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! We've finally reached the end.  
> This was my first novel length fic, and I learned so much during the process, including how to write character growth and foreshadowing, and how to use HTML to post it with italics and art.  
> Many of you left me kudos and/or incredible comments, which I appreciate so much. You guys are what make publishing worth it!  
> If you like my writing, please check out my other work and stay tuned for my next story. Have a great Sunday everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I am still new to this site so please let me know if I messed up on tagging or formatting!


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